The Schedule
by I'm Insipid
Summary: Frankie begins to tire of Mr Herriman's ridiculous schedule.
1. Chapter 1

This is my First Fanfiction, feel free to read and review but be gentle, no flaming please!

Quick note, my stories will most likely revolve around Frankie, Mac will be living at the house for my series, simply because I don't like his mum or Terrance, but I haven't come up with a reason yet so bear with me.

The Schedule-Chapter 1

The red-headed young woman's alarm sounded, loud and ear-splitting, she immediately slapped the snooze button and settled again into blissful rest.

_1 minute 13 seconds later_

"Miss Frances!" Roared the man-sized rabbit, his austere voice filled the room and obnoxiously reverberated off of every wall.

"AAAH" Frankie yelled, leaping 4ft in the air, in the shock of her rude awakening.

"Do I have it on my schedule that our estate manager should arise at-" he took a second to flick open the golden fob watch from his waistcoat pocket, "06:02:04 AM? Or do I have it written down that you should awaken at precisely six?"

Frankie sighed, however as she began to get up it became apparent the anthropomorphic rabbit wasn't asking a rhetorical question.

"Well..."

"Mr H I-"

"What time abides by my schedule, Miss Frances?"

"Six o'clock," she moaned

"Well I hope your little _'lie in'_ was worth it was you have reduced your showering/vanity time to 15 minutes,"

"Look bugs, I barely have enough time to get dry as it is-"

"14 minutes, 54 seconds now Miss Frances."

"AAAAH!" she yelled, throwing her arms into the air in her exasperation, she made a beeline to the bathroom only to find it locked, there was the distinct noise of singing from the other side.

"Hello," she shouted through the door, the voice immediately stopped it's awful rendition of 'Poker Face', Frankie heard the toilet flush and the unknown, would-be pop star hastily washed their hands and unlocked the door.

Bloo emerged and sped down the hallway, his red blush turned him a sort of lilac shade, Frankie only chuckled, "Every morning, like clockwork."

"13 minutes 49 seconds Miss Frances!"

"Yeah whatever!" she ran into the bathroom and closed the door, she immediately tried to remove her clothing, only to slip on the bunched up pyjama bottoms around her ankles. Panic seized her as she tumbled like a tree being felled by lumber jacks, her long arms flailed out as she grasped for anything to take a hold off and stop her fall. She could have grabbed the bath, the cabinet, even the wall would have been preferable to grabbing the flimsy shower curtain, which, due to sod's law (which seemed to dictate most of her life) was exactly what she did. She collapsed in a heap of dishevelled, red-haired, half-nakedness, as the floral plastic shall came undone from it's moorings

After wasting another 2 minutes pinning up the shower curtain and delicately removing her underwear whilst trying not to graze any of her newly acquired bruises. She turned the shower dial and was immediately greeted with what she could only describe as a recently melted ice berg, she grabbed the dial and twisted it as far the opposite was way. That was no better, as it felt like a stream of white-hot liquid metal was scalding her naked body. She retreated to the other end of the shower, wholly convinced the infernal contraption was trying to kill her. She managed to delicately twist the dial into the idea area... ahh, this was sometimes as best as it got, a hot shower, considering the rest of her day was spent cleaning, cooking, cleaning, running errands, cleaning, comforting friends, cleaning, and sometimes if she was lucky, cleaning. However since Mac starting living at the house, he and Wilt would often give her a hand, it's not that she minded working endlessly for the friends at Foster's, she loved them all, "Some more than others," she chuckled, remembering Ed, Wilt, Coco, Bloo and Mac. However the impossible workload did sometimes get the better of her.

She turned off the stream of water, and was horrified to realise the room wasn't as quiet as it should be, she could hear a gravelly voice singing loudly "72 bottles of beer on the wall, 72 bottles of beer!"

_72? How long has he been there? _

She nervously peeked out from behind the curtain to find Eduardo, brushing his fur. He was singing along to his MP3 player, and obviously hadn't noticed Frankie showering.

"Who has '99 bottles of beer' on their IPod?" she thought to herself quickly. Ed began slathering soap on his face, he then resumed serenading his own reflection in the mirror, blowing the occasional soapy bubble. Frankie considered her options, if she tapped him he would almost certainly freak out, and with his massive bulk he could cause untold damage, if she tried to sneak around him she'd probably be noticed, and she didn't want Ed to join the ever-growing list of friends who accidentally catch a glimpse of her naked body. She could just wait him out, but he was a big guy that took a lot of cleaning, the duration was often doubled by Ed's love for hygiene. "5 Minutes Miss Frances!" she heard the bunny shout, "That's it," she thought, she slowly reached over and tentatively laid a hand on Ed's shoulder, he stopped singing and shrieked to high heaven. "El monstruo yo quiere muerto! MUERTO!" He launched himself at the door, creating an Ed-shaped hole in the space of wall where the door used to be. Frankie winced as she heard Ed smashing and crashing down Foster's intricate series of corridors in his endeavour to put as much distance between himself and the source of his terror.

Frankie went back into her room, and pressed play on the stereo, only to shut it off seconds later, upon angrily recalling Herriman's imposed time constraints. She looked herself up and down in the mirror, and pondered how she was going to manage to get dry and ready in 3 minutes. Banishing all sensible ideas from her head, she simply coated herself in towels and tried to get as much as her body in contact with her impromptu dress as possible, to anyone else looking it must have looked like a mummy was trying to have a fight with itself, and somehow losing. She tried to help by blasting herself with the hairdryer, which seemed to be working, until she realised that she had been blowing her hair in all different directions, resulting in what looked like a crimson tumbleweed on her head. She quickly tied her hair behind her head in a ponytail and straightened her fringe, she would've loved to occasionally wear her hair long, but since she always had to rush getting ready, she would often look like a female, red-headed Pat Sharp.

Mr Herriman stood in the foyer tapping one of his large feet, didn't that girl know she was now a whole 1 minute and 12 seconds behind schedule? "Hmph! Probably standing in front of a mirror with her _GHB'S _or whatever her age group were obsessed with," he huffed, before quickly checking around to make sure no one noticed the momentary lapse of his usual collected self. Frankie thundered down the stairs to meet the rabbit's less-than-impressed gaze, he once again opened his gleaming fob watch, "We are now a grand total of 3 minutes and 46 seconds behind schedule Miss Frances, can't you keep to these basic time constraints? I mean honestly, how hard is it for a twenty year old girl to get up in the morning and be ready by 6:20 AM?"

"You have both asked and answered that question Mr H," Frankie replied sarcastically

"Well in any case, as house president I decide upon the schedule, that dictates your work day, so hop to it!" he lectured, before turning on his furry heel and hopping into his office. Frankie sighed, she had a feeling this was going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

This is the second chapter.

Couple of quick notes, I decided to add stick by the tried and tested formula that Frankie was orphaned and developed a bond with Wilt as he was always helping Madame Foster.

Also I'm from Northern England and so I know not everyone may get some specific terms I use , if this is the case I apologise.

Special mention for Dude13: Thankyou for the Review, I'm not completely through it but I love your series and your writing has influenced mine as you may have noticed :) I'm very glad you like the story so far.

Quick note: There were some errors in this chapter thay have now been corrected

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><p><span>The Schedule-Chapter 2<span>

"AAAAHHHH!" Frankie shrieked in frustration, something as simple as making breakfast was proving to be more complex than untying a Gordian Knot, she already burned the toast, eggs, bacon, oranges, seriously? How can anyone burn orange, but the scarlet haired young woman had found a way, much to her displeasure.

"Hey, where are the eats?" Frankie heard a bullfrog-like voice ask boldly.

"They're just…" She wheeled around to meet the voices owner, only to be met by an empty, white-tilled Kitchen.

"Erm, hello?"

"Down here," she looked down to find Jackie Khones leant up against the oven door, poised like some sort of 1940's gumshoe. "Mr Herriman asked me to come check up on you, said something about you being late,"

"Arrhhh!" she groaned, furiously smacking her hand on the counter, only to knock over a particularly runny bottle for tomato puree, Frankie just buried her head in her hands as the liquid swept across the countertop like a pyroclastic flow. She heard the bullfrog-like voice again "You do know you just knocked-"

"Yeah I know!" She cut in, the small broccoli-like friend looked affronted,

"I'm sorry," she lamented, "it's just I have 10 more minutes to finish breakfast for the entire house, and Lord knows that's impossible, but the rabbit will say," she paused to put her finger on her upper lip, show her front teeth, and put on a terrible English accent "Miss Frances, you should have had the initiative to put 3000 pieces of bacon in the pan at once while you make 3 million pieces of toast with the other hand! How hard is it to make food for all the inhabitants of a massive Victorian Mansion, in half an hour without even the slightest failure?" She exhaustedly finished her ode-to-Herriman piece, and wheeled round to ask Jackie "You know what I mean?" She sincerely hoped she had fallen and struck her head whilst impersonating her boss, as she didn't see Jackie at all, but rather a very large pair of furry grey feet. "Oh, hey there, Mr Herriman," She giggled nervously "I was just well,"

"Asking yourself the question I was just about to ask you Miss Frances?"

"Wha?" suddenly what the rabbit was saying became crystal clear, "I can't finish this in 10 minutes, you'll have to give me more time," She beseeched of the unimpressed Hare,

"Oh, I 'have to' Miss Frances? I'll have you know, I don't 'Have to' do anything, you on the other hand 'Have to' get breakfast ready, because I, the house president outlined your obligations in your daily schedule, now have I made myself clear?"

"Yes Mr H." Frankie said dejectedly, as the overgrown bunny hopped briskly from the kitchen, Frankie, set out the cooking utensils again, and miserably began to make breakfast for the second time that morning. "One more thing Miss Frances," She turned on her heel to see the monocle adorned face of Mr Herriman poking his head round the door, "Yes Mr H," Frankie seethed, making little attempt to disguise her growing fury. "Perhaps if you spent your time working and not invest it in childish mimicry, you wouldn't always find yourself so behind!" Frankie didn't let out her shriek of frustration until she had heard that the rabbit had hopped away.

"Well all I'm saying is that I heard what I heard," Mac said to his sapphire-toned friend, "It was definitely that song, and was definitely in your voice,"

"I'm sorry but I heard that as well," Wilt chipped in, between monitoring his vast leg movements to make sure he didn't overtake the eight year old boy, and the blue figment he was interrogating. "Well, hmm put it like this Mac, HEY WILT," the turquoise blob yelled,

"Bloo you don't have to shout, Wilt's walking right next to us!" the eight year old boy tried to chastise his friend, only to realise the blob wasn't listening.

"Wilt you think I'm awesome right?" Bloo asked, adding some puppy eyes to manipulate the lanky red helper-friend.

"Sure do!" Wilt reassured, adding a thumbs up,

"So would some as, AWESOME, as me, be singing something so famously lame as Lady Gaga?"

Wilt racked his brains, he wanted to say yes, of course, considering Wilt had caught him doing it 10 times so far, but he didn't want to offend Bloo, "Well I suppose not…" no sooner had the words left his mouth, Bloo broke into an impromptu victory dance "See Mac? Wilt says there's no chance I was singing that stupid song 'cos I'm awesome!" Mac glared at him, he hated when Bloo took advantage of Wilt's better nature "You're not awesome Bloo," Mac retorted, only to be barely escape a heart attack, when Bloo thrust his face 3 millimetres from his creator's in a record 0.2 of a second. "I am awesome, Wilt said I was and he's older than both of us," Mac looked up at Wilt, who in turn looked at him, they both shared a despairing look over the Blue blob's over-zealous attempts to get them to all agree on his 'awesome' status. "Not only am I awesome, but I was born this way," he announced proudly, folding his stubby arms across his turquoise chest, and shutting his eyes in an effort to look impressive. When he opened them Wilt was smirking, and Mac was trying and failing to contain his sniggering, Bloo realised his blunder far too late, and was only met by laughter when he tried to correct himself, "I, well… I meant created, y' know, 'cos I'm an imaginary fr… SHUT UP!" Mac and Wilt were in full swing now, Mac was thumping the wall and Wilt was desperately trying to say 'I'm Sorry', only to succumb to the merriment once again. Bloo sulked all the way down to the dining room, once Mac had calmed down, he tried to cheer up his friend, "Oh Bloo it doesn't matter, everyone knows anyway," the blue figment stopped dead in his tracks, "What do you mean, 'everyone knows'?" he implored worriedly,

"Coco filmed you weeks ago," Wilt said, never dropping his jolly demeanour, which made the whole experience feel only more mocking to Bloo. "WHAT?" he shrieked, Wilt and Mac flinched slightly at the ear-piercing tone that he reached, but as they looked around, none of the friends seated at the house's lavish dining table, had even batted an eyelid at Bloo's noisy protests. Everyone was fixated on the door to the dining room, wherein, from the sound of things, a much more interesting fiasco was situated. To say it sounded like a spooked bison, wearing a suit made of pots and pans, was set loose in a small room covered in touch sensitive fireworks was maybe even an understatement. "Has someone scared Eduardo?" Bloo enquired, concerned for his friend, he scanned the table but Ed was sat in his usual place, looking worriedly at the door to the kitchen, "Oh… sorry Ed,"

"Es no problemo azul," he took another look at the sinister door to what sounded like hell, "I even thought it was me for uno momento." While Bloo struggled to comprehend what Eduardo had just said, Wilt noticed Mac was shivering "You okay buddy" he questioned, Mac was fixated on the door to the Kitchen "There's only one person who could get that angry," The eight year-old uttered, talking like he was describing an attempt on his life.

"Who," Wilt asked, similar to the way someone may enquire to what happens next in some petrifying horror story. He got his answer not from Mac, but from the long, thin leg, and the blue and white trainer on the end, than kicked the door to the kitchen open. To anyone else it may have looked like a walking collection of plates, food and cutlery, but Wilt knew exactly who it was, "Oh no," he muttered. The food monster began handing out plates to everyone on the table, no one made a sound, as she handed out more food people could see the angry form of Frankie, emerging from behind her precarious payload. She was almost shaking in what one could safely assume was anger, she had flour in her hair, and her clothes were blanketed in a collection of suspicious looking food stains, she had either finally lost it with Herriman, or that was jam splattered across the chest of her white T-shirt. Fluffer Nutter noticed the estate manager had what looked like a full piece of toast in her hood when she was handed a plate of nuts, "…Erm, Frankie?"

"WHAT?" The caretaker immediately turned around to face Fluffer Nutter, who looked as if she was about to faint, "Y…You have t-toast in your h-hood,"

"I know," Frankie muttered as she carried on handing out breakfast to the friends on the table, "It's the only place I could keep my breakfast," when she had finished she took the toast form her hood and began munching on it, she stormed into the foyer and then up the stairs muttering something about Herriman. "What was that about?" Mac asked a nonplussed Wilt.

Frankie threw her clothes into the washing basket, "Hmph, I'll be washing them at 2:37," she muttered as she thought back to the bunny's annoying schedule. She was just about to change into a fresh set of clothes when the door to her bedroom opened and Wilt, accompanied by Mac, "Frankie what was that abou-"

"AAAHHH!" she cried in response to two of her best friends seeing her only in her underwear. Wilt immediately covered Mac's eyes, and Mac tried to do him the same courtesy, until he remembered there was no way he could reach, all stood frozen for two seconds until Frankie yelled, "Get Out!" Wilt immediately did what he was told, he scooped up mac and galloped from the room, "I thought she was gonna kill us!" Mac breathed in relief once they were safely outside, it was apparent he was still hadn't recovered from his earlier fear. Finally Frankie opened the door she was wearing her lesser-seen, red skirt, dark blue hoodie and Dexter's lab T-shirt, which showed her tummy like 80% of her tops did, she immediately got out her schedule copy and began walking, she turned a corner while Mac and Wilt stood stationary, she then poked her still flour covered head back round the corner "Did you two need something?"

"Yeah, if that's ok?" Wilt replied as he caught up to her,

"It always is Wilt," she chuckled,

"Frankie, erm…" Mac began while he struggled to keep up with her brisk strides,

"What is it pal?" she replied, seeming unnervingly cheerful considering the previous events in the dining room. "What was all that about in the dining room?" he and Wilt both asked in unison

"All what?" Frankie did her best to sound innocent,

"Frankie," Wilt sounded unimpressed, she always hated it when he dropped his semi-permanent, toothy-grin, in favour of his rarely worn stern look. "So I got a bit angry," she stated defensively as they all made their way to Frankie next monotonous and unfair task. "Frankie, I wouldn't be surprised if Fluffer Nutter needed therapy!" Mac asserted desperately,

"Oh come on I wasn't that bad," Frankie was only met be silence, she stopped her purposeful marching, and turned to see her friends shuffling uncomfortably, "Was I?"

"Well erm-" Mac was cut off by the shrill voice of Bloo,

"Whooaaa! There she is," he laughed uproariously "Are these more people who ticked you off? Oooh you two are so dead!" he laughed manically at his own jokes. Mac was about to interject, but was caught off guard by Bloo's obnoxious rendition of a Funeral March in time to Frankie's resumed walking. "Well I see you still like singing," Frankie butted in with a devious smirk.

"What was that Frank-Zilla?" he retorted, still quivering with laughter.

"I'm just glad to see you're keeping up your singing career Bloo, or is it Lady Kazoo, or even Blooregard GaGa," Bloo flushed red, again resulting in a peculiar shade of purple, Wilt and Mac were snickering behind while Frankie just grinned smugly. Bloo took in an enormous breath and then frantically hollered "Wilt said I'm awesome and he's older than us cos he's 27 and he helped raise you so you have to listen to him!" Bloo took another deep breath, oblivious to the looks he was getting from Wilt, Frankie and Mac. "Plus Wilt said Lady Gaga was lame like 10/10 lame and I'm awesome and lame and awesome don't mix!" He had to take several breaths this time, he was being looked at like he had three heads "SO I DIDN'T DO IT!" he shrieked, Frankie could've sworn that only dogs could hear that tone. Bloo looked at them desperately, Frankie chuckled, and simply stated "Coco's film begs to differ," He shrieked and tore off down the hallway yelling about finding and destroying Coco's film. Frankie turned to face her comrades in Bloo-torturing, "Oh man that was great! Did you see his face, they oughta just start calling him purple!" Mac and Wilt shared an uncomfortable laugh with the currently hysterics-bound redhead, but they were still dancing around the issue of Frankie's earlier explosion. "So Frankie… Frankie….FRANKIE!" Mac had to yell over her persistent laughter, the caretaker wiped a tear from her eye and replied "Sorry Mac, what were you saying?"

"You never said why you blew up before,"

"You need to tell us now!" Wilt added sternly, before immediately apologising.

"Look guys Herriman's schedule was just getting the better of me, but I'm ok now, it's 8:20 so if I head to the foyer and start cleaning the floor I should be right on time, I could even finish early," she announced, looking extremely proud of her self. "Erm Frankie?"

"Yeah Wilt?"

"Your watch actually says it's 9:20," They watched as the realisation dawned upon Frankie, her pupils constricted and her mouth went dry as she brought a shaky arm up to her face, the shiny watch face confirmed Wilt's soul destroying news, Frankie immediately sprinted down the stairs repeating "I'm so dead," over and over again. She eventually got down to the foyer to, sure enough, find Mr Herriman with Frankie's mop in his formal glove-clad hands. "Mr H. I'm so sorry, I just…"

"Were changing your clothes," Frankie glanced down to her body, and mentally cursed herself for not explaining that. "That's just because when I was making breakfast-"

"You mean the breakfast that was half an hour late, and the one than Miss Nutter emerged scared for her very life,"

"She was…that upset?" Frankie enquired guiltily.

"No," said Herriman much to her relief, "But she was upset, maybe my previous hyperbole made you realise why my schedule is so essential, I'm now adding 'apologise to Miss Nutter' to your daily duties," Frankie's jaw hit the floor

"Your damn schedule made as angry as I was, I would never have shouted at her if it wasn't for your ridiculous time constraints!" she yelled in retort, her face was almost identical to her deep rouge locks at this point, Mac and Wilt appeared at the top of the stairs, gasping for breath after their Foster's marathon following Frankie. "Plus," Herriman added "What is this you are covered in?" he asked regarding the flour still in her hair, "No doubt some sort of cosmetic," he said disapprovingly, punctuating his sentence with a tut. Frankie jaw went through the floor on starting heading toward China, "It's Flour! Because I was so rushed this morning the Kitchenry now looks like a scene from _Saving Private Ryan_!"

"All because of your insistence on extended rest this morning Miss Frances!"

"1 MINUTE!" Frankie screamed, only restraining herself physically due to the fact that Herriman was still her employer, and she didn't fancy going on the dole "THEN ED WAS IN THE BATHROOM, BUT NOT BEFORE BLOO, AND THEN I WAS SO RUSHED I COULDN'T MAKE BREAKFAST UNTIL THE THIRD TRY!" Mr Herriman remained completely unfazed by the young woman's torrent of fury. He didn't say anything, he simply handed her the mop, she snatched it from his grasp "Maybe your easily foreseeable late-finish will teach you why you shouldn't be tarty," He hopped briskly away, Frankie looked like she was about to swing for him.

She cast down the mop in her hands and sank to a depressed heap on the floor, Wilt and Mac sped over to her, she sounded as if she was about to burst into tears, "I just wish he'd give me a break," she lamented, "and now I've upset Fluffer Nutter, all she was doing was trying to help me!" Wilt patted her on the back reassuringly "Fluffer Nutter's fine, everyone knows Mr Herriman gives you a hard time," he soothed

"Miss Frances! Master Blooregard has just assaulted Miss Coco, something about a tape, see to it immediately!" they heard from the tannoy system above their heads,

"Son of a bit-" her almost curse was cut off by Wilt's hand over her mouth, sparing the inquisitive 8-year-old's ears. Frankie got up and angrily began mopping "I'll never get all of this done!" she cried

"Well, what if Mac and I helped you? Is that Ok?" Wilt began, before seeking conformation from Mac, "Sure!" Mac replied, "How about it Frankie?" he asked,

"Guys that would be awesome, thankyou soooo much!" she gushed joyously. Wilt and Mac both picked up a mop from the nearby cupboard, and came to stand in front of the redhead, almost like soldiers in a drill. "But first," Frankie began "some rules,"

"OK,"

"OK,"

"One, we need to move fast. Two, do exactly as I say so we get done sooner. Three, this is the most important, no more seeing me in my underwear, ever,"

"Relax Frankie," Wilt chipped in, "You were always only in your underwear when you were little,"

Frankie stared at Wilt, her eyes and mouth both open as wide as they could go, her embarrassment only increased when Mac burst out into laughter. "You wouldn't keep your clothes on, me and Madame Foster used to find them discarded all around the house," he continued, making sweeping gestures with his arm, and increasing her torture tenfold.

"SHUT-UP WILT!"

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><p>Next Chapter the wager Frankie makes will be mentioned.<p>

Please Read and Review


	3. Chapter 3

Hello, sorry for the longer wait, to make it up this is a much longer chapter than the previous two.

Review Responses

**Kammy101-** Thank you for taking the time to review, 'Waiting was a fantastic fic and it was great to get a more in depth look into the way Wilt thinks.

**Dude13-** I am pleased to see that you're enjoying the series, I have taken more time proof-reading this chapter, but if you spot any mistakes please feel free to point them out to me.

My next story will revolve around a Foster's outing, I am stuck between the beach and a fair/amusement park, if you have any preference please let me know via a review or PM.

This story has most likely one more chapter, two would be the very most, also tempers flare and tears are shed in this chapter!

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><p><span>The Schedule-Chapter 3<span>

"Good job guys," Frankie said with a thumbs-up, she had to hand it to them; Wilt and Mac were very good at the housework. The redhead took a look at her watch, 2:30, she had to double take, the schedule confirmed it, from being over an hour behind the estate-manager and her newly acquired cleaning duo had crawled back to being 7 minutes in front. "Ok guys!" She exclaimed, the alpine helper-friend and his young companion stopped dusting the aged library and turned their attention on Frankie. "We're all done here, let's head to the laundry room,"

"You two go ahead," Mac replied, "I've just got to finish dusting the Biographies,"

"OK Mac," Frankie shouted to her brown haired friend, who was already disappearing into the vast sections of the, now-sparkling library. The crimson haired young woman immediately started down the hallway, she heard the unmistakable sound of Wilts sneakers, squeaking on the pristine floors behind her, "Hey Frankie slow down!" he shouted after her, "You're going the wrong way!"

"Wilt go down to the laundry room," she shouted back at him, Frankie on the other hand was going straight up to the foster's living quarters, "I need to do something else," she muttered.

The Pink squirrel stared out the window, finally turning around with a depressed sigh, she went and sat on her bed. Why had Frankie been so horrible to her, she was only trying to help. She turned to her door, only to see the cause of her upset standing in the doorway, wearing a guilty look across her usually smiling face. "Hey Fluffer," she said, her voice thick with regret about the morning's unpleasantness, Fluffer simply turned away from her, "I know you're upset with me," Frankie began "And you have every right to be, but I would just like to say I'm sorry, I was angry with someone else and I took it out on you, and I shouldn't have" She cautiously waited for a reply from the Pink imaginary friend, but she was certain she was clutching at straws, she began to mournfully walk out of the room.

"Frankie?" the 22-year old stopped in her tracks and tentatively crept back into the dormitory,

"Yeah?"

"Do you even like working here?" Frankie took a second to think, she would have liked to pour her heart out, it's not often someone genuinely asked that question, but Fluffer Nutter was an imaginary friend, created by a child, and no matter how old they get, how mature they got, they were still inevitably children at heart. Take Wilt, he was 5 years older than Frankie and whereas he was adult, mature, and more or less a member of the staff, she would still he him playing pretend almost every day with Ed, Coco, Bloo and Mac. No matter how old Fluffer Nutter was she was still a child deep down, and Frankie didn't want to burden the friend with the trials and tribulations of her working life. "It's complicated Fluffer, I don't really like my job,"

"So why do you work here?" the inquisitive figment looked up at her with big curious eyes.

"Because I love this house," Frankie replied earnestly, "And everyone in it," she continued with a smile, while laying a comforting hand on the pink squirrel's back. "What about Mr Herriman? He lives in the house,"

"Well," the estate manager began with a smirk, "Almost everyone," The imaginary friend next to her laughed for the first time that morning.

Wilt tore down the hallways of Foster's, his natural Basketball-player's agility made the sharp corners of his expansive residence a doddle. He finally arrived at his destination, the laundry room of Fosters, lined with so many washing machines it made one's head spin, Wilt chuckled inwardly at his unintentional pun. He strode in, took out the ironing board and began to work on some of the sheets in the basket, "Hold on, how are these already out?" he thought aloud.

"Hey Wilt," the lofty claret-coloured friend almost jump of his skin at the sound of the voice behind him. Wilt immediately wheeled around, prepared to take on whatever malevolent presence had materialised, however he only saw the beaming form of Mac, already stuck into his duties. "Wha, how did you?"

"Shortcut," Mac said with a grin, gesturing to the chrome laundry chute emerging from the ceiling above him. Wilt looked at it dumbly for a second, before everything clicked and he laughed uproariously, "Good job buddy," he exclaimed jovially with his trademark toothy smile and thumbs up, Mac continued to empty the washers and fold the various items that he received from Wilt after he had ironed everything. Eventually the laundry room looked like a bizarre-sheet imitation of New York with all of the towers of neat, folded laundry filling the four walls. "Ok guys if we get all this finished in a quarter of an hour we should be on track." Frankie began absentmindedly as she finally entered the room, her eyes not leaving her copy of Mr Herriman's schedule. When she heard no answer she looked up, only to almost faint from shock, upon seeing Mac and Wilt's amazing job in the laundry room, "We finished without you, is that OK?"

"Guys this is awesome!" She cried, enveloping them in a warm bear-hug,

"Frankie, shouldn't we get on with the jobs?" Mac asked through his laughter,

"Oh yeah!" the young woman exclaimed, suddenly remembering she did have to work today as well as cuddle her friends. "OK guys, let's get to it!"

After a long day of working, the three friends wanted nothing more than to collapse and veg out in front of some rubbish TV, perhaps another episode of the positively tear-jerking, 'The Loved and the Loveless'. However these hopes were dashed by the sound of hopping in the adjacent corridor, the frequency and intensity of the thumps of his large feet on the wooden floors told them he wasn't a happy bunny. "Miss Frances!" Herriman hollered, an ever-present severe edge to his voice. "Oh God, what now?" Frankie spat in a hoarse whisper, before quickly checking herself as the silver form of Foster's own resident rabbit appeared round the corner of the door. "Yes Mr H.?" she asked, making no effort to disguise her disinterest, "Why on earth are you on recreation time Miss Frances? I don't recall putting, 'Watch puerile television dramas with Master Wilt and Master Mac' on your daily rota!"

"We finished early," Mac winced, from the look on his face, Herriman was less the appreciative of Frankie's over confidence.

"Oh you did, did you? Well I can tell you two chores you have neglected, there are no consumables in the kitchen, plus the place is completely filthy!" He angrily retorted, "No it's not!" Frankie snarled incredulously, "We filled and cleaned the Kitchen like an hour ago!"

"Miss Frances enough!" That outburst silenced even Frankie "I do not make up tales simply to annoy you young lady! I have far better things to do with my time, there is a mountain of paperwork in my office and I can't get into it because I've had to correct everything you've done today! First you don't wake up, then you upset Miss Nutter, now you accuse me of fabrication? I will not have it, now go to the kitchen and fulfil your duties as caretaker, before you find yourself in the unemployment line, good day!" Mac was surprised he didn't lose his top-hat during his rant. "What on earth is he talking about?" Frankie muttered to herself as she started trudging to the kitchenry, Mac and Wilt kept a distance behind her, they knew better than mess with an angry Frankie. The estate manager was sure that they had left the kitchenry spotless, however there was a considerable amount of noise emanating from behind the double doors. "Coco coco coco coco coco coco coco coco!"

"Give me that tape you avian freak!" Frankie's insides grew cold upon hearing the shrill voice of Bloo shout after, one would assume Coco. She opened the doors to the kitchen, and was confronted by a scene of pure, unadulterated horror. Coco was cowering behind a worktop, whilst Bloo launched food in her direction in a desperately-failing attempt to hit her, the no-man's land in between looked like the polymerisation of 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre' and 'Masterchef'.

"BLOOOOOOOOO!" The young woman screeched, her voice oozing with unparalleled wrath. Bloo immediately dropped his makeshift munitions and stared at the ferocious red-head. Her face was now the same deep crimson as her hair, she was grinding her teeth furiously and was growling in her outrage, all contributing to a sound almost like that of screeching tyres. Her fists were clenched, their vice like strength highlighting her now white knuckles and her eyelids were frantically twitching, all together this created the perfect example of 'someone you don't want to mess with', which was exactly what Bloo had done, and he had certainly not cut any corners. The kitchen was caked head to toe in God-knows-what, and in her exacerbated state, Coco had laid at least thirty different eggs, each had opened to reveal a different 'prize'. Mac saw a drum, hundreds of pens, even more coco cards, at least 50 rubber ducks and what looked like a prom dress, at least it did until it had been pelted with Black Forest Gateau. "Bloo," the redhead seethed, unnervingly quietly, "I am so angry I can barely think, leave this kitchen now, and pray, I mean really PRAY! That I don't see you for at least a fortnight or else you are dead, and I don't mean that in a figurative sense, I mean dead!" Over the course of the young woman's bile-strewn rant, all trace of blue had systematically drained from the ghost-shaped thought, who proceeded to speed from the room like a cheetah on steroids. Mac and Wilt were anxious concerning what to do next, Frankie was stood, her head seeking refuge buried in her hands, and Coco was shivering, while her eyes darted in all different directions. "Ok," Frankie said, her voice like gravel after her previous yelling, "Wilt stay here and help me and Mac, can you take Coco up and calm her down?"

"Yeah sure Frankie," they both replied shakily, as if there was any chance they'd say no after seeing her that wound up only seconds previously.

"That rabbit wants me to mess it up well oh no! We're gonna finish all this within schedule!" the caretaker ranted to herself as she began the long cleaning process, Mac took coco by the hand, or wing, or whatever she had, honestly she was one of the oddest creatures Mac had ever come across, but she was always nice to him and he was glad to have her as a friend, even if he did wake up to her licking his face a couple of times. Coco was badly shaken, she started to climb the stairs before stumbling a couple of times, luckily mac could grab her fuselage-like body to stop her from tumbling down the many staircases of Fosters. Mac helped the ornithological oddity into her nest/bed, Coco was still shaking, creating a distinct rustling sound as she quivered in the green wrap of hay. Mac spent the next hour and a half gently rocking her bed and crooning a lullaby to the traumatised bird, feeling slightly aged by the whole experience, it's not often and eight year child sings a 14 year-old creature to sleep. Finally Mac detected the soft sounds of Coco, snoring, murmuring her eponymous catchphrase over and over in a distinct drowsy tone. Mac heard heavy footsteps on the floor outside, followed by a soft knock on the door. He tentatively pulled it open, wary of disturbing the sleeping figment, Ed was waiting patiently outside, holding a delicately wrapped present, "Hola Mac!" Eduardo cried jovially,

"SSSSHHHHH ED! Coco just went to sleep," he desperately told the bulky guardian-friend,

"OOOOH, si si, I get it now, I be muy tranquillo Mac, I just put this next to Coco," he gestured to the attractive looking gift in his hands, "I heard what that big meanie azul do to Coco, so I make her una torta muy deliciosa!" Mac racked his brains, scanning his limited Spanish reserves to try to decipher what the violet friend had said, but to no avail. "What did you make her Ed?"

"Es un cake!" Ed said proudly,

"What?" Mac sharply replied, wholly convinced Coco may not fully appreciate Ed's gift considering her ordeal.

"Si, Black Forest!" Coco's eyes snapped open at the mention of one of her earlier antagonist's chief weapons.

"Oh no," Mac squeaked, bracing himself for the inevitable storm.

Frankie stomped angrily to the pantry and seized one of the fast running-out bin liners, however she managed a quick look at the cake smeared dress Coco had fabricated only an hour ago, it was certainly a some nice looking attire. She held it as close as she could without getting desert all over her second outfit today, she then observed her reflection in the the gleaming fridge, "Hmm," she thought aloud.

"Frankie?" Wilt called, "I think we're more or less done here," he caught Frankie quickly slinging something into a nearby washing basket. "What was that?" Wilt enquired suspiciously,

"Oh nothing," Frankie responded absentmindedly "OK Wilt," the redhead began, immediately shifting into 'No-Nonsense Frankie', "We have one hour to get up the shop, restock the kitchenry and then we're done,"

"Sounds good," he answered, as merry as ever, do

"We should get that done as long as _nothing else goes wrong!_" Frankie explained stressing her last four words especially. However, as if some deity was out to spite them, almost immediately after she finished her sentence there was an almighty crash from upstairs, accompanied with a chorus of terrified 'cocos'.

"Oh God!" Frankie screamed, the weight of her responsibilities seemingly increasing tenfold, she began storming out of the Kitchenry into the dining room, then subsequently the foyer, her feet stamping getting louder and louder as her fury intensified. Wilt chewed his bottom lip worriedly as they heard not one but two sets of voices. Frankie went to open the door to the room, only to be knocked off her feet by the force of Ed fleeing. He immediately retreated behind the young woman, "Coco's gone loco! Coco es muy loco!" Ed bawled frantically from behind his seething shield,

"OK Ed just calm down," Wilt soothed, but it was no use, the symphony of Coco's tagline from behind the bedroom door was too much for the heavy-set mauve friend who only 3 seconds later darted down the corridor, shrieking all the way. Frankie peeked into the trashed room, Mac was perched on top of Ed's bunk, he was white as a sheet as he kept a watchful eye on the distressed fowl. Coco had seemed to overturn every piece of furniture, the table, the wardrobe; the scarlet haired estate manager was surprised that Mac's precarious sanctuary hadn't yet been toppled. "The gift," she heard Mac hiss,

"What?" Frankie asked trying not to further annoy Coco who was sat in the corner taking a rest from her rampage, but still looking as jumpy as ever.

"The gift!" Mac hissed louder, "Get rid of Ed's gift," his little arms were wildly pointing at the bonny looking present in the room,

"Why?" Frankie snapped back

"JUST DO IT!" Mac lividly retorted, as loudly as he could without disturbing the still-volatile bird. Frankie picked up the gift and took a peek inside.

"It's only a cake." She realised her mistake, half due to remembering Bloo's onslaught earlier, and half because Coco started charging toward with the force of a train. "AAAAHHH!" Frankie squealed in fright, launching the present at the first way out of the room, the open window. Mac observed Ed's well-meant present on its short trip to its final resting place, the path leading up to Foster's. It splattered unceremoniously on the grey pavement, adding another dash of unneeded colour to the already vibrant estate. Upon the root of her outburst leaving the room, Coco skidded to a halt, stopping within an inch of Frankie. The eccentric friend seemed to return slightly to her old self as she stroked a still-stunned Frankie on the cheek with one of her elongated feet. Coco then trotted over to her nest and collapsed exhaustedly into some well-needed rest. "OK," Frankie piped up, breaking the uncomfortable silence "I need to go to the supermarket, Wilt, Mac; I can't let that bunny win! Please, get this cleaned up!" Frankie all-but begged of her two friends. They nervously agreed; Frankie was really on two ends of the spectrum today.

Frankie booted the heavy doors to Foster's open and marched down to the bus, she had really had enough of everyone and everything today, and a trip to the overcrowded supermarket was not what she needed. "Just this, just this one last thing and then you can relax, you're done after this!" she asserted, only to realise half a second later that she was talking to herself, "This job is literally driving me insane," She made her way down to the lively looking bus.

"Miss Frances!"

Frankie felt her blood boil at the sound of _his_ voice, the cause of her fury, the noise of each one of his irritating hops felt like someone was jabbing her in the chest. "Miss Frances!"

"WHAT? Hmm? What do you want now? I suppose another impossible task that needs doing in milliseconds, or perhaps you need me to clean up someone else's mess and receive no thanks and NO LEEWAY FROM YOU? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?" Frankie shrieked, her throat feeling like sandpaper and her head feeling like it was going to burst, she inhaled deeply while looking the rabbit in the eye, Mr Herriman was completely unfazed by her tirade of fury and just kept his cool and collected composure, before delicately saying, "You forgot your keys Miss Frances," she looked down at the formal glove wrapped hand that was outstretched toward her. She saw the familiar photo-keyring of her, Mac, Ed and Wilt, Coco and Bloo all together after playing some childish game in the hot summer sun; she would've liked to have smiled fondly at the memory, however found herself preoccupied with her distain for the cottontailed bureaucrat before her. She snatched the keys from his hand and had to restrain herself from striking Herriman when an uncharacteristic smirk appeared on his face. She started up the bus as the maddening hare hopped back into the house, for a sickening second the bus's engine made a sound like a granite statue being forced into a wood-chipper; Frankie didn't know if she could deal with another disappointment today, but thankfully the reliable old automobile spluttered into life, and began steadily trundling down Wilson Way.

Frankie hadn't encountered any issues when driving up to the supermarket, in fact it was (excluding her shower) the most relaxed she'd been all day. She pulled into a parking place, and went over to the procession of shopping trolleys and yanked one, of course it didn't come out. Frankie looked over to the second line of trolleys, a little old woman hobbled over to the furthermost one and gave it a quick tug, and typically it came unstuck almost instantly. Frankie thought to try her luck on the adjacent queue of trolleys, again the confounded contraption was stuck, she rattled it fervently to no avail, "AAAHHH," she roared vehemently and gave the trolley a harsh kick. It jutted forward sharply and then finally came untangled from the identical trolley in front, well almost identically; of course the one that Frankie used would have to have a wonky wheel. She pushed it into the shop, no longer caring about the odd stares she was getting when she had to ram it onward every 10 seconds. She looked at the crumpled shopping list produced for her hoodie pocket, and tried to decipher Herriman's over extravagant writing for the second time that day. She squinted at it, why did a 'T' need 13 swirls added onto it, and since when did 'I' have 2 loops? She eventually abandoned the list and went in favour of her memory, it would probably easier to remember hundreds of items than read _that_, again.

The rouge haired young woman went the fresh fruit and veg aisle, purposely missing out any cakes she was supposed to pick up, she wasn't going to be cleaning Black Forest Gateau off the walls if Bloo went mental again. She started piling items into her trolley absentmindedly, the estate manager was fairly certain Foster's wouldn't need any of 'Dr Marigold's triple concentrate pipe organ detergent' but she was really past caring, all she was focused on now was getting back in time to rub it in the rabbit's face and be able to put her feet up. She came to the butchers section, only to have a kid with a trolley ram painfully into her lower back, she wheeled round to see her aggressor. The child was wearing a black vest with a skull on it, the slogan '2 kewl 4 skool' also made an unfortunate appearance, he was wearing some unnecessarily baggy jeans that he wore far too low, he flashed her a toothy grin, at least it would be toothy if he was in possession of all of his teeth, however the worst part was that he only looked about Mac's age. "Excuse me young man," Frankie began, only barely keeping her composure "That wasn't very polite!"

"Shut up!" the kid responded, his face contorting into an ugly display of mocking.

"Excuse me?" Frankie retorted incredulously,

"I said shut up, red-headed idiot," the kid bit back. Whereas Frankie would've loved to have shrieked at her irritating antagonist, she simply didn't have the time, she turned on her heel and walked off; trying to pay no heed to the child's squeaky mocking laughter, burning in her ears.

Frankie had finally gotten the last of her items, she began to make her way to the tills. The increasing weight of the shopping was causing the wonky wheel problem to intensify. She shoved into the queue at began tapping her foot, Frankie's watch confirmed that she only had 15 minutes left until 5:00, thankfully she didn't have to perform her usual night duties on weekends, when she got in, the night officially belonged to her, and she planned to sleep for most of it, or maybe even read a full magazine. The queue was moving agonisingly slow, and Frankie thought she may have time to tie an undone lace on her trademark trainers. However after she did, Frankie began to doubt, "I wasn't that far away from the till a minute ago," it was then she saw what had happened, and boy was she mad. That annoying child from earlier had pushed in front of Frankie, worse still he had his whole family, who together had 3 trolleys full of food. "Excuse me," Frankie tried to speak as politely as possibly but her patience was wearing thinner and thinner with every passing second. The matriarch of the clan turned round, Frankie almost gagged at the human equivalent of Duchess. The leathery skinned hag spoke to Frankie in a foul wind of cigarette smoke odour, "Whaddya want lady?" She snapped rudely,

"I was actually in front of you, you've pushed in and I would appreciate it if you would go behind me," Frankie could barely get the words out through her grinding teeth, a trait those at Foster's would know as a sign of the oncoming storm of legendary Frankie-rage. Unfortunately the overly tanned make-up smeared woman in front of the furious redhead was none the wiser. "Yeah well ya sleep, ya lose!"

"What?" Frankie was lucky that it was a word that came of her mouth and not the snarl of rage that was threatening to escape out of her mouth.

"You heard lady, ya sleep ya lose,"

"You SLEEP you lose? You SLEEP you lose? Are you serious?" Frankie lost it, she had been having her worst day in recent memory and this tarted-up ignoramus had blew off the caretakers lid with her comment, "Sleep doesn't even rhyme with lose, how can you be that idiotic? HOW? Now I am going to go round you, and go back in front of you to my rightful place, or I will go THROUGH you, YOU GOT THAT?" Considering when people described her, the term easy-going came up 99% of the time, Frankie's sudden eruption was a testament to the stress of her job, like an artist chips away at limestone, her duties at Foster's had systematically chipped down her patience today, until none remained. However unlike the artist whose act of chipping creates beautiful sculptures, Frankie's job had worn her down to the red-face embodiment of wrath that many innocent shoppers now bore witness to. The ashen-faced woman in front of Frankie moved herself and her children out of the way of the livid woman with the claret-hair, as did everyone in the queue. The staff member on the checkout eyed the young lady in the dark blue hoodie worriedly; he really didn't want to upset her further, he would much rather keep his face intact. "T-that will be, $270 p-please," The woman said nothing as she took out a bundle of notes from her pocket, and handed them to the checkout manager, who nervously counted the bundle. Everyone in the supermarket was now watching the scene in front at the till; no wanted to speak out the question on everyone's mind, would the checkout manager live, or die? The checkout manager finished his check, she was one dollar short, "Erm, y-you only g-gave me $269," the staff member screwed his eyes tightly shut, waiting for the inevitable eruption, but to his surprise the redhead simply dug around in her pocket some more and then handed him a crumpled up note, she then turned to the bagger who sheepishly finished his job, before placing the bags back into the wonky trolley, the young lady resumed her task of shoving forward again and again before she exited the shop. Everyone immediately blew a sigh of relief, shopping resumed and the checkout manager was left to deal with the repulsive woman who came after Frankie, and her massive handful of obviously forged vouchers.

Frankie returned the trolley into the gleaming metal procession after unloading the last of her shopping into the vividly coloured Foster's bus, what no one saw of the seemingly irate young woman was that her bottom lip was quivering. She quickly got into the bus and rested her head on the steering wheel for a second, however that second became a minute after she found tears running down onto the dashboard, she hated it when she took out her rage on other people, it always made her feel like a horrible psychopath, "They may as well call me Frankie Bateman," she choked out between another sob. Frankie checked the thankfully-empty car park, she would've hated to be seen blubbing like a child in public, she tried to stop crying, but the unfairness of her employer was really getting on top of her, her rage was subsiding into sorrow. Of course no-one in that shop knew her situation back at her residence, to them she would just seem like some nutcase on a day-trip from the asylum, no-one knew she was more or less solely responsible for a house full of imaginary friends, a demographic widely known for being wacky and sporadic in every sense of the word. She started to wipe her steady stream of tears, "It's a good thing the bunny gives me no time to look nice in the morning, or else my mascara would be smeared right now," she had successfully managed to make light of the situation and make herself smile, no matter how insane that sounded Frankie was glad of it. She started up the bus and looked at her watch, her eyes nearly bulged out of her head 4:50, she had ten minutes to get back within schedule. She wiped away the last of her tears, sorrow now turning to determination, ten minutes, game on.

Wilt looked out of the window worriedly, from what he'd seen of her today, Frankie really did need a win today, and the lofty crimson friend wanted that for her. He and Mac had helped as much as they could, after she had left they'd tidied their room after Coco's rampage and then got rid of the ugly cake ruin outside the house. They'd ran round the entire house and cleaned everything that had a speck of dust on it. He scanned the entire of Wilson Way for the twentieth time, the sunset causing the sky too look like the swirls of an over-decorated coffer, the sun was going in, signalling five o'clock with it. He looked at the nearest clock, it was either 4:57 or 4:58 he couldn't be sure, but what he could be sure of is that Frankie wasn't going to make it in time. However just then, he peered of into the distance, a large smile appeared on his face as he made out the unmistakeable sight of the multi-coloured bus thundering up the road to the large Victorian-esque mansion.

Frankie was afraid the bus would break with how hard she was working it, she slammed on the hand-break as she neared the house, performing a rather impressive sliding manoeuvre into her usual parking place that she would have to be proud of later, and all but kicked the doors to the bus open. Frankie sprinted up the path, never realising how long the damn thing was until now. She reached the doors and fumbled with her keys, almost screaming in frustration when she dropped them, she risked a quick glance at her watch, 4:59. Frankie's eyes bulged and she fumbled to get the right key, the caretaker rammed it into the keyhole and pushed the great doors open to find Herriman standing in the foyer, as usual he looked unimpressed. Frankie on the other hand was ecstatic "So Mr H, you said I would finish late today but look, ONE MINUTE early, just like I was ONE MINUTE late this morning," She began laughing loudly, almost insanely, she was just so relieved that the her cotton-tailed antagonist hadn't won, he couldn't lord this over her no matter how hard he tried. Mr Herriman waited, waited until his giled fob-watch hit 5:00 and then interrupted the young woman's impromptu victory dance before him, "Miss Frances, it is now five o'clock-"

"Yeah, and I got in at 4:59!" Frankie interrupted, before resuming her fun at the expense of Herriman

"Indeed but you didn't let me finish Miss Frances," Frankie actually did stop; she felt her victory at risk, due to the rabbits unfortunate talent in exploiting loopholes. "But you didn't re-stock the kitchen in that time." Frankie felt her heart drop, and drop, and show no cease in the plummeting, she turned round to ogle the vivid bus behind her, even from here she could make out the shopping bags in it. "Therefore you didn't finish in schedule as I predicted, it seems all of your premature celebration was redundant, you didn't finish you're duties and are therefore, late. Again." He added icily, before curtly hopping into his office. Frankie began miserably trudging toward the bus. Herriman may have been right, again, but what pained her the most is that she had lost to him and the house.

Again.

Mac and Wilt had been checking the numerous of the living rooms of Foster's for a while, after they discovered Frankie wasn't sulking in her room as they expected. Mac poked his head into what was either the 33rd or 34th room they'd checked, and was about to leave when he saw the trademark rouge hair of the disheartened young woman, standing out even when contrasted against the cracking fire at the head of the expansive chamber. "Frankie?" Mac asked tentatively, he had been hearing her sob softly. At the sound of his voice however he immediately checked herself, trying to dispose of the tissues she had been drying her eyes with. "Frankie are you OK?" Wilt delicately enquired, the two friends walked up to meet their crestfallen pal, "I'm fine," she choked out, having one last stab at maintaining her dignity, but Wilt could tell what she was doing, and after 30 seconds of looking into his good eye, the redhead burst into tears again. "No, you're right I'm not fine," a fresh wave of tears began falling down her light skin. Mac's heart nearly broke at the sight before him, he climbed onto the settee and hugged onto Frankie's tummy to try and comfort her, she put her arms around him and cuddled him like one would with a plush toy for security. "It just seems," Frankie began between sobs, "I only try…to help… the house… and Herriman only ever…punishes and… never gives me a break…I try my best," Wilt put his arm around her, and she rested her head on his deceptively snuggly, spindly body. "Why not try to talking to him, I'm sure he could give you more time," Mac suggested.

"Even if that were possible pal, that's not the problem, I could make his stupid schedule if he would just stop pressuring me, it annoys me and then…I can't concentrate…and I'm late…and I get angry at the friends…like Fluffer this morning," she blubbed, almost succumbing to more tears.

"I don't know what to suggest," Wilt admitted, chewing his bottom lip, "It's like when Bloo challenged Herriman, actually I suppose it's not, sorry," He rambled, Mac noticed that Frankie had stopped crying, her eyes had gone wide in dumb shock, he could almost see the gears turning in the estate manager's head. "Of course I suppose if you think about it Bloo had no schedule, but he was tired of Herriman,"

"Wilt…" Frankie interrupted the basketball player's erratic train of thought.

"Erm…yeah Frankie?"

"How did Bloo challenge Herriman?"

"Well he said if he didn't break any rules in a day, Herriman couldn't punish Bloo for a month,"

"Did he accept?" Frankie queried, still staring off into oblivion while the cogs of thought turned in her head. "Sorry, what did you say Frankie?" Wilt asked with a smile, Frankie immediately span around on the comfortable furniture to face him, Mac was almost flung off the sofa in the process. "HERRIMAN, DID HE ACCEPT, DID HE ACCPET THE CHALLENGE?" Frankie all but screamed urgently at Wilt, while clutching the sides of his face.

"Yes, yes!" Wilt responded desperately over and over again. Frankie then let go off Wilt and galloped out of the room.

"Wilt?" Mac asked, looking up at his friend with confused eyes, "Yeah buddy?" Wilt replied, his eye still focused on the door where Frankie had ran out, and his hands nursing the sides of his face. "Why did Herriman accept the bet?"

"You know Bloo," Wilt began, "He can barely go an hour without breaking a rule let alone a day," the helper-friend.

"Did Bloo win the bet?" Mac asked enquiringly

"Ever asked yourself why Frankie no longer has to clean out the stables?"

"Ewwww!"

Mr Herriman took another swig of carrot juice, he then leant back in his chair to take another bite of steamed carrot. However he needed to concentrate in order to finish the carrot order forms in front of him. He was about to do just that when the door to his office opened, he squinted through his thick monocle to make out the form of Frankie, she waltzed over to his desk and leant forward on two hands, her face only inches from Herriman's,

"Hey Bugs, you up for a little bet?"

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><p>Please read and review!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

I've decided to split this up into two chapters rather than one.

Sorry again for the long wait, College is a nightmare. However I'm off for two weeks now so the final chapter will be up in the next few days. With my A-levels it will be harder to publish stories through April and May, but I'm committed to this so I will definitely publish as much as I can in these two months, and then after that my exams finish so expect a lot more FHFIF fics from me, but I don't like to think about exams during the holidays, far too depressing.

Review Responses

**Kammy101-** Thank-you for reading chapter 3, I always look forward to your reviews, they've never failed to make me smile yet, especially the "What the Fridge!" comment! Herriman is indeed an irritating rabbit, but after this story I'm going to soften him up a bit and make him less of a, well… a bit less of an arse. I've always liked the character and so therefore am going to portray him a bit more positively in my fics after this initial one, I hope you will read and enjoy them too :)

**Dude13-** From the maker of my favourite Fanfiction series it is great to hear feedback, and your comment about my portrayal means a lot. Thank-you also for giving me some feedback on my next story idea, I agree with you on the funfair idea and think it would allow for a more interesting story, so that will be the subject of my next fic! That will have one or two chapters and will not be as long as this one, so you can expect that next week, I hope you will read and review that also =D

**TheMasterofDespair- **Thank-you for reading my fic, I am looking forward to your next berry story and will be one of the first to read it! I hope you will continue to read and enjoy my stories as I upload them =)

Whereas it's not a songfic at all, this chapter sort of has the theme of Frankie's music running through it, also Frankie gains an unlikely helper.

This Chapter is more of a premise to set up chapter 5, which will be the (hopefully) dramatic finale!

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><p><span>The Schedule-Chapter 4<span>

Frankie had been hoping for an adverse reaction to her question, something along the lines of Herriman trying to eject her from the office, only to instantly ask her back due to his unrelenting curiosity of what Frankie's mysterious offer could be. In reality Herriman simply looked up at her for a moment, and then back down to his paper-work. "Bargaining is one of the five stages of grief Miss Frances, it is not a stage of 'being terrible at ones occupation',"

"I am not terrible at my job!" Frankie bit back, jabbing a finger into the House president's fleecy grey chest. He swatted her hand off as if it were an irksome fly, before replying, "Neither is anger."

"Do you want to accept or not?" Frankie retorted instantly, her growing impatience evident.

"Why should I, the president of this honourable institution, accept a juvenile wager from a caretaker?" Frankie could tell what he was doing, trying to knock her down until she eventually gave up or God-forbid, agreed with him. However she also knew the bunny was in possession of a significantly inflated ego, "Hmm I suppose you're right," she said in mock dejection, Frankie began making her way out of Herriman's office, but added audibly "I suppose it's my fault for thinking you were a gentleman," the redheaded estate manager grinned evilly as she heard the steady tapping of Mr Herriman's typewriter cease, "Pardon…me?" he enquired, anger present in his unnervingly quiet voice, "Well here I am, a lowly maid, talking like this to the House President," She began, her tone like that of a child, emphasising how beneath-him she was acting. "And you said it yourself, 'A gentleman doesn't take this kind of abuse lying down'," Frankie quoted him directly from the funny-bunny fiasco, he was looking directly at her now, "But my mistake, I suppose I was wrong," Frankie began making her way out of the room, until she heard the Rabbits austere voice, "I know what you're doing Miss Frances," Frankie stopped dead in her tracks,

"You…do?" She nervously asked,

"Yes, you know you can't beat me in this wager and now you're trying to talk me out of it," He paused to let out a positively upper-class chuckle, while Frankie let out a sharp sigh of relief, "Do you really think me that foolish," He scoffed,

"You're just too smart for me Mr H," Frankie said with a smirk, before turning on her heel and making her way back to the Rabbit's desk, "So go on then Miss Frances, what is this wager you're proposing, and don't think you can get out of it now young lady,"

"Well if you're forcing me," Frankie responded, in mock frustration, "I was going to say, if I can finish within schedule tomorrow without you badgering me," Frankie had chosen her words carefully, and it paid off as she saw the ghost of annoyance flitter through the rabbits eye, he _hated _it when people likened him to a badger, "You have to start going easier on me."

"Hmm, interesting proposal Miss Frances, but what if I win?" Damn, Frankie hadn't thought about that one, what was she willing to give up to Herriman, she had to face the fact that if this backfired her job could become worse than ever before, but at that moment an aristocratic voice shattered her thought process. "Miss Frances if you're taking this long now how do you expect to even have a chance at this puerile challenge tomorrow?" That tore it,

"If I don't manage to finish within schedule, then I will give up my weekend nights off." Frankie stated resolutely, crossing her arms across her chest while the cotton-tailed manager before her made up his mind. He finally extended his grey, glove-wrapped hand; Frankie seized it and shook, squeezing his hand as hard as she could while he did the same. The two rivals shared some fierce eye contact, before Frankie wheeled around and stomped out of the meticulously ordered office, Herriman leant back in his chair and took another sip of carrot juice. He savoured the orange liquid, how it carried his favoured flavour, how cold it was, how its viscosity was greater than that of a normal drink, what a fine beverage. Herriman loved the finer things in life, from his impeccable suit to even his parker pens, and the amusement he was going to get tomorrow looked as if it was going to be fine indeed.

"YOU DID WHAT?" Wilt yelled, his eyes wide with disbelief,

"I made a wager with Herriman," Frankie replied, "I'm sick of him riding me, all day long it's just, 'Miss Frances! Clean up every-single mess in the house in two seconds or I'll once again ridicule and embarrass you in front of everyone!' I'm completely sick of his shi-" Wilt covered her mouth to once again spare the eight year old next to them. "Frankie," Mac interjected, "Remember you once told me that your weekends off were the only thing that helped you keep your sanity?"

"Well…yeah," Frankie admitted,

"You also said to me, if you didn't have any time off you'd probably go on a homicidal rampage!" Wilt added, Mac looked confused, "Frankie, what's a homicidal rampage?" he asked inquisitively,

"Well, erm… sometimes grown-ups, get angry…then erm, they find an axe-"

"It's nothing Mac!" Wilt hastily interjected, giving Frankie a stern look. "So you don't think I can do it?" The redhead demanded, her two friends shuffled nervously, trying to avoid the withering gaze of the nightie-wrapped young woman, "Erm, well, given by your track record, you might struggle," Wilt said delicately, trying not to rile Frankie further, however it looked like she was beginning to have her doubts. "Look I can do it, I'm always late because Herriman is always on my back, but he's agreed to leave me to it, it should be easy! Shouldn't it?" Frankie seemed as if she was trying to convince herself more than the two boys in front of her, they on the other hand said nothing, there was an uncomfortable silence for 10 seconds, before, "Oh my gosh! What the heck have I done? I can't do this, oh no I'm gonna lose the precious free time that I have!" Frankie wailed, throwing her arms into the air as if imploring some sort of deity for help. "Frankie it's Ok," Wilt soothed "You've never given up before, and you won't now," Frankie looked up at his smiling face, and her sorrow seemed to turn to determination, "Yeah!" Mac now joined in, leaping onto the bed "We know you can do it!" Frankie smiled at her two friends, and enveloped them in a hug,

"Thanks guys, I needed that," She said earnestly. Frankie savoured the hug, snuggling deeper into the warm bodies, drawing comfort and strength from them, because tomorrow she was certainly going to need it.

The young woman's alarm sounded, loud and ear-splitting, she immediately slapped the off button and sat up, frantically rubbing her eyes trying to banish any feeling of tiredness from her over-tired body. Frankie knew she was fighting a losing battle, she had set her alarm to be an hour earlier just to give herself an edge against Herriman, even he wouldn't be up right now. Frankie immediately leapt out of the tempting embrace of her bed, and switched on the light. It felt as if someone had detonated a firework in the room as the bright white light stung her eyes, her pupils shrank to be the size of pinpricks, Frankie tried to make her way to the bedroom door; however in her dazzled state she tumbled onto the floor, landing in a dischevelled heap. She collected herself and rushed toward the bathroom, thankfully it wasn't locked today, she could hear no awful Lady Gaga impersonations from a certain blue blob, one she was still furious at thanks to yesterday's assault on the still-shaken Coco. Frankie stripped her nightie and underwear off, this time she remembered to lock the door to make sure no-one stumbled in again; they'd already had replace half of the wall thanks to Ed's redecorating yesterday. The only reason they'd managed to get everything sorted in a day was because the construction workers were so versed in repairing Eduardo-shaped cavities in the walls that they could more or less do it in an hour now. She turned the dial carefully this time, and found the goldilocks-zone of the shower much easier to find, due to the fact that she wasn't shaking with anger, in fact, she couldn't remember the last time she felt this calm in the morning. She began washing herself, taking quick moments to glance at the water-proof watch she was wearing, she was well in schedule, that being her self-imposed schedule for today, it didn't have specific times, in fact Frankie's rota for today was more along the lines of 'GET EVERYTHING DONE AND GET IT DONE QUICK!'.

Frankie was washing with a tea-tree shower-gel, and winced only slightly when she felt the familiar refreshing burning sensation on her pale skin. Frankie finished her shower and swept the tacky floral shower curtain from in front of her, then stepped onto the rug that guarded the floor from being saturated by the various wet bodies that exited the shower during the day, she giggled slightly as the material tickled her feet.

Frankie checked her watch, and felt a smug grin spread across her face, 5:14, without the bunny breathing down her neck she had cut 6 minutes out of her usual shower time, she seized the towelling house-coat that was hanging on the back of the door, she'd had to convince Ed it wasn't a ghost at least 50 times. Frankie went back into her room, relishing the fact that she actually had time to listen to a bit of music, the caretaker plugged in her IPod, and selected shuffle. The rouge-haired young lady began drying her body, she able to take a bit more time to perform the task a bit more delicately, ergo not treating her skin like she was a joiner sanding a lump of wood.

Frankie finished and made a point of selecting some underwear for the day before going any further, too many times had someone 'just wandered in' at the most inappropriate times, people who hadn't stumbled in on Frankie naked seemed to now be in the minority much to the young woman's distress. Frankie began drying her hair, she had almost forgot how to do it properly considering how often she just blasted it and tied it behind her head. Frankie swayed her hips and mouthed along to the song playing through her earphones, Pulp's _Babies_, Frankie had always a thing for the classics, everyone thought she was only into Punk-Rock, that was untrue, Frankie like a wide variety of music.

The redhead danced along to the next song too, Grandaddy's _El Caminos in the West_, she happily looked like an idiot as she kicked her legs, span around and shook her behind to the upbeat rock pumping out of her IPod, all the while drying her hair. Frankie eventually finished with her crimson locks and glanced at her watch, again a smug smile found its way onto her face, 5:29. Frankie was about to tie her hair in a pony-tail before realising she was only doing so out of force-of-habit, she had taken the time to dry her hair properly, so she decided to for the first time ever, wear it long while on the job. Frankie rooted in her wardrobe and decided on her outfit. A purple hoodie with her white top, emblazoned with the face of a certain cowardly pink dog, she then chose a denim skirt to put on, accompanied with her trademark white and blue trainers.

Once she was certain she looked suitably dynamite she opened her bedroom door and for once felt really ready to face the day. Frankie began making her way down the hall only to come face to face with a sight she thought she would never see, Mr Herriman before he was washed and dressed, and boy did it make a difference. He never usually had a single hair out of place, however now it was as if he was covered in a grey rendition of the Alps, fur stuck up in all manner of tufts and knots. He wasn't wearing his trademark monocle or top hat, and his eyes were now clearly visible in all their bloodshot glory, added to this one of his ears was up while the other flopped limply on his face. The rabbit was standing hunched, and looked unnervingly like he did in his ''Call me Herry!" incident, albeit minus the hippy clothing. He regarded her in the same way, a sight he would never have dreamed of seeing, Frankie up and ready before him. She could tell how much it was getting under the bunny's skin, and she was loving it,

"Hey sleepy-head!" Frankie crooned, ruffling the fur on his head just to add to the condescension, "Well can't stop to chitter-chatter, _some_ of us have work to be getting on with, we can't all sleep the day away can we?" Frankie kept up her sickeningly sweet façade all the way down the corridor until she was out of sight, however as soon as she was out of sight, Frankie broke out into a fit of irrepressible giggles, which only intensified as the aged rabbit began angrily grumbling while he stomped toward the bathroom. Frankie entered the foyer, she didn't need to start breakfast for a while so she once again plugged in her IPod and began mopping the floor, The Silent Comedy's _Bartholomew_ began blaring into her ears, Frankie swept the mop over the dust covered floors in time to the pounding rock music. The estate-manager realised how apt this song was as the lyric, "You might make it boy, but by the skin of your teeth!" was repeated over and over again. Frankie carried on her monotonous task, her only entertainment coming from her MP3 player, however she couldn't concentrate, her pointed nose twitched as an odour she could only describe as 'heaven+1' drifted around the expansive foyer. She turned, desperate to find the source of the euphoria-inducing fragrance, Frankie found it in a beautifully wrapped present laid on the staircase, she could practically see the gorgeous smell emanating from the colourful box. Frankie all but dropped her mop carelessly upon the now gleaming marble flooring of the foyer and made her way over the source of her distraction.

On top of the box there was a carefully tied bow, and a label adorned with the script, "To Frankie". Frankie unplugged her IPod and surveyed the foyer, the identity of generous individual whom gifted the box still unknown to the redhead. That was until a door-shaped sapphire blob appeared from behind the bust of Madame Foster, making his presence known with a soft cough. Frankie wheeled round to meet the source of the noise frowning when her gaze fell upon Bloo, all thoughts of gratitude immediately withering when she saw her azure antagonist from yesterday. His eyes were focused on his would-be feet; Bloo didn't usually do guilty, so seeing him like this was quite a shock for the redhead. Bloo fidgeted uncomfortably, before mumbling something indistinguishable for 30 seconds, and then immediately turning away. "What?" Frankie impatiently demanded, she had no time for his nonsense, especially not today. The blob sharply exhaled, before turning round and speaking more clearly. "Frankie I'm really sorry for ruining yesterday for you, I see now that my actions were incredibly selfish and it was wrong for me to assault Coco, even if she is a sneak that films people during their private moments-" he began adding venomously, only snapping out of his furious thought track thanks to an over-zealous throat clear from Frankie.

"Anyway," He quickly corrected himself, "I'm truly sorry, you may notice the gift over there which I offer to show my remorse over yesterday's unpleasantness," he bowed his head and awaited Frankie's reaction, who was less than impressed. The only thing that Frankie had noticed about Bloo's apology was how out of character it seemed, "Who helped," Frankie bluntly enquired, her arms folded across her chest and her foot tapping again the foyer floor. "What," Bloo asked, playing dumb,

"Bloo!" Frankie warned, feeling her frustration building-up,

"OK, Mac helped but only because I didn't know what to say, I'm really sorry Frankie!" Bloo fell to his knees, well whatever he had instead, to Frankie it looked as is he just sort of folded in half, before grabbing Frankie's skirt and all but grovelling, "I know I'm annoying, bumbling and self-centred, but I just want people to think I'm awesome, Mac lives here, so it looks like I'm gonna be here for a while, I'm not in charge, I don't have a job around the house except for that stupid stable thing and honestly I usually just get Wilt to do that!" Frankie scowled at that revelation, and Bloo picked up on that, "But I'm gonna stop asking Wilt to do it, but I only have my reputation Frankie, it's all I have, I can't have people knowing I sing Lady Gaga when I'm alone! I know what I did was wrong, but if people don't think I'm awesome then what am I? A Blob! Not an awesome basketball player or a kooky bird plane thing, or a massive purple monster, not even an uptight bunny-rabbit! Just a Blob! I don't wanna be just a blob! I'm so sorry Frankie!" Frankie softened at his admission, but still had her doubts. "And before you think I'm just doing this to get out of trouble, look in your present." Bloo reassured, as if reading her mind. Frankie obeyed and opened up the meticulously decorated box, inside there was an extra-large helping of Madame Foster's cookies. "But she only makes them once a year," Frankie said, absolutely dumbfounded.

"I had to give her all of the pocket-money I'd been saving, but hey, I suppose Skyrim will still be out in a few months' time." Frankie didn't know what to say, this was so, so…well unlike-Bloo, it was at that point she realised that there was something else in the box. She took out the bizarrely shaped gift and chuckled slightly upon seeing the Christmas wrapping paper, "Slightly out of season there Bloo," She laughed, however the sapphire friend simply remained silent, Frankie shrugged and ripped open the gift, and gasped. It was Bloo's first ever paddleball, complete with the childish gags and messages he and Mac had carved into the wood, the string that Frankie had had to replace and fix for Bloo so many times, and the old, worn out ball, a sort of dull pink now after losing so much of its dye on the wooded panel on which it would repeatedly bounce, creating a small red circle on the wood. Finally, Bloo had wrapped a cloth around the handle, and inscribed it with 'Property of the Bloo Superdude' in his namesake colour. Frankie observed the plaything, and then looked at Bloo, his head was bowed and his bottom lip was quivering, he was really being serious. "Bloo…I can't take this," Frankie softly verbalised, smiling at the imaginary friend,

"No…you have to," Bloo replied solemnly,

"Bloo," Frankie began, kneeling down to be eye level with the cerulean blob, and handing the paddleball back into his stubby little arms. "I don't need you to buy me presents, although I will take the cookies," Frankie laughed, trying to lighten the mood, "The gesture is enough, if you are really sorry, then you don't have to give me anything." The blue blob met Frankie's eyes, evidently still unsure to whether the redhead was serious. "Taking care of Foster's is my job, all I ask is that you don't make it harder for me than it needs to be, maybe clean up after yourself more, and slow down on the crazy schemes, yeah?" Frankie finished her speech and got back up to her own lofty height, not forgetting to pick up her box of baked treats "Need any help?" Frankie turned round to see Bloo, clutching his paddleball protectively and waiting for an answer off the lanky caretaker. "You, do the housework?" Frankie chuckled, making no considerable effort to disguise her disbelief. "Sure!" Bloo responded enthusiastically, "I'm awesome at everything else so it's only fitting that I'm awesome at housework too!" Bloo yelled, grinning widely as he rushed to join Frankie on her trip to the kitchen. "Well I suppose you're right," Frankie giggled at Bloo's antics, "Come on then Superdude, we've got work to do, breakfast won't make itself,"

"Awesome!" Bloo yelled, "I make a mean omelette Frankie, you've not tasted until you've tasted Le Chef Bleu!" Frankie laughed harder this time, and put her arm on Bloo's shoulder, for once she was actually glad to have the indigo figment by her side.

Mr Herriman sat on the large chair in his office, and scowled, he had been doing a lot that this morning. Miss Frances up and ready to face the day, before him! Preposterous, that lollygagging girl was clearly cheating somehow, and he wouldn't take it! He hopped from his office, he could hear sounds from in the kitchen, Herriman hopped briskly toward the double doors of the kitchen and peered into the window, he could see Miss Frances and Master Blooregard, working together? "That tears it!" He thought aloud, he would've loved to have burst into the kitchenry and called off the entire wager, but that was just it, Frankie or himself never said that the caretaker couldn't have any assistance, oh she _was _clever, but not as clever as him! That's for sure, if she was going to play dirty then so was he, and he could play _much_ dirtier. Herriman hopped as fast as he could without looking like a grey furry space-hopper, toward the phone, and began tapping a sequence of numbers he'd had to dial more times than he would like, and not for good reasons! "Oh Miss Frances," Herriman chuckled, "You're day is about to go horribly wrong," He picked up the receiver and as the dial tone repeated gratingly, Herriman tittered pompously,

"Very wrong indeed."

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><p>Please read and review, but most of all enjoy!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Foster's Fanfiction

**PLEASE READ-Ok so this isn't the final chapter, but the story is finished, I just thought that this chapter would be a bit long as one, the next and final (promise this time) chapter is between 3-5 thousand words, meaning that all together this chapter would be over 10,000 and think that that is pushing it. This is a very lengthy chapter, so you have a lot to read, the final chapter will be up tomorrow, that's a promise. Also thanks to a review from one really eloquent guy, I have changed the summary, this is no longer based around the wager, that is just a part of it, it is now more just based around Frankie and the Schedule. I want to apologise to anyone who thinks this fic is too long, for more elaboration on that please read the review responses.**

Review Responses

**Adenn666**- Thanks for reading, I've given Bloo a larger part in this chapter so I hope you like it, also I hope that link I gave you is working and you have been able to watch some episodes, I hope you'll read and enjoy my other fics in the future.

**Dude13**- Thankyou for reading, and yes I will address why Mac is living in the house, I'm going to be publishing that fic after my funfair fic, so probably after the coming week. Another tender moment in this chapter so I hope you like it, and a quick note the fun-fair fic will be shorter than this one and will most likely have a couple of chapters, the story about why Mac is living in the house could either be very long or short, I haven't decided yet but I will almost definitely publish it third.

**Tomas the Betrayer- **Wow that's a good review. So first things first, I really want to stress that you have gotten the wrong end of the stick on your first comment, I admit this may sound like I'm getting aggressive or having a go, I assure you I'm not, but those moments are simply there for a bit of comedy releif, there is nothing...shall we say _kinky_, intended, I'm not devoted to the subject, it's just meant as a bit of light-hearted fun, I would (respectfully of course) disagree that there is anything peverse about my writing, but it is up to anyone who reads this fic to decide. Now that's out of the way, thankyou for raising the issue of length, I have changed the summary because whereas the story was initially intended to be built around the wager, it has sort of devolved into one of Frankie's animosity towards Herriman's Schedule. I would blame this one the fact that, when writing I will often get distracted or come up with something I like, and then stick it in, now (please don't strike me) I'm actually not rapping this up in 5, I've split this last chapter into two simply because it was over 10,000 when i finished it. I understand the problem here and I am going to start planning better. About Bloo, I get that, the same happens with me and Cheese, whom I effing despise. Yes you are completely right, using she does feel incredibly boring to myself, but hey, that's what thesauruses are for. Finally I agree that Herriman is the character I write best for, when proof reading this story I often pick-up on that, Frankie is my favourite character and so I will continue to mainly centre around her but I am in the midst of planning a Herriman-centric story. Please don't think there is anything malicious in my response, I do disagree with you on some points but I am not trying to be agrressive in anyway. Thankyou for the review, because my God was it thorough, if you read this chapter (and it's not too long :P) you may notice the knod to your own story in there.

There are a few references to various things in this chapter, ten points for everyone you find!

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><p><span>The Schedule-Chapter 5<span>

Bloo tossed a pancake into the air and only narrowly caught it in the red hot pan he had clutched in his would-be hands. "Bloo, I told you, no throwing, we can't be late at all today." Frankie yelled at Bloo, unfortunately the redhead couldn't help but smile at the friends antics, releasing him from any seriousness her chastising had carried. "Now I've already made ten pancakes, what about you Blo-" Frankie stopped and stared, absolutely dumbfounded at the unlikely sight before her. Bloo had managed to prepare no less than thirty pancakes, complete with glasses of Tropicana. "Bloo…wha…how?"

"Cooking shows," The azure blob replied nonchalantly, before expertly flipping another pancake.

"You watch cooking shows?" Frankie asked, disbelief evident in her newly-regained voice,

"Nearly all I do is watch TV Frankie, it doesn't matter to me what's on" Frankie chuckled at this, against all odds, no matter how unlikely it seemed, Bloo's utter laziness had paid off when she really needed it most. "Ok I think that's enough pancakes," in a millisecond Bloo had left that work-station, and stood to attention in front of her, Frankie couldn't remember the last time she had laughed this much on the job, "Good hustle G.I. Bloo." Frankie snickered, before patting him affectionately on the shoulder. "Right I think it's clear who's better that this cooking stuff," Frankie admitted while surveying the Kitchenry, trying to work out the best way to make the food and maximise efficiency. "OK, I'll make cereal; you go make toast Bloo, buttered, cheese and jam," Bloo mentally made a note of his task and rushed over to Foster's over-sized toaster. Frankie began taking out bowls from the cupboard and quickly checked her watch, it was 7:25, on her normal day Frankie wouldn't be starting breakfast for another 5 minutes, however today it looked like she may just finish in that time. That bunny was going to eat his words like a plate of steamed carrots, Frankie grinned diabolically, as she poured portions of Kellogg's and milk into the crockery. She could picture it now Herriman trying to wake her up in the morning, but she'd be like '5 more minutes Bugs!' Then he'd have to be say 'OK Miss Frances, I would exercise my authority but unfortunately I lost it all in that wager you did so well in.' Frankie chuckled evilly, _yeah that's what it'll be like_,

"Frankie, Frankie, FRANKIE!" She was snapped out of thought by the voice of Bloo; trying to alert her to the fact that she'd been pouring milk into the same bowl for around thirty seconds during her victory-daydream. The worktop was saturated by the white liquid, "Oh God, get some paper towel," Frankie said desperately, terrified at losing any time. The two amateur chefs cleaned up the spillage, Bloo once again surprising Frankie with his lightning efficiency. "I may have to give you a full time job in the kitchenry." Frankie teased, her glee heightening when Bloo looked up at her horrified. "No way, if I'm always in the kitchen, the ladies aren't going to get to see this all day!" Bloo protested, adding a seriously-seductive smile, which surprisingly was only 90% ridiculous. Frankie let out an undignified snort of laughter, "The kitchen is much more a place for a place for you Frank-enstien," Frankie let out a gasp, acting mortally offended by the blob's comment, "Well at least I don't look like a ghost that's too cold," Frankie jested, prodding Bloo in the tummy for emphasis.

"Yeah well! Erm… I suppose you've got me there," Frankie was almost in tears from the merriment she was sharing with Bloo. Once she had recovered she began loading plates of pancakes and toast onto a serving cart, "Okay Casper, I'm gonna lay these out, you carry on making food,"

"Wait Frankie," He stopped her and started wrapping the portions in tin foil, "Something a Mr Heston Blumenthal taught me, keeps in the heat," Frankie once again had to hand it to the Blob, he certainly had a knack for cooking, she touched a wooden spoon to his shoulder, "I now knight you Sir Bloo Ramsey!" She said, trying to sound as lord-like as possible while disguising her prominent giggles. Bloo laughed at her jesting, for a lady Frankie was a lot of fun to be around Bloo thought, he'd have to do this more often.

Herriman could hear _laughter _coming from the kitchenry, that vexed him, laughter shouldn't be heard when one is working, laughter is reserved for the day's 5 minutes of leisure time, and should only be heard on the job in extraordinary circumstances. Just like whenever he remembered the surprise Miss France would be having soon, those circumstances were more than sufficient to allow Herriman to cackle like a Tory upon finding a caviar reserve. He observed as his rival kicked open the door to the kitchenry and started laying plates, covered with…_tin foil?_ Oh that was clever, she was good, she could get on with her duties without the breakfast losing the heat it so desperately needed to retain its deliciousness, "Clever girl," Herriman scoffed. He quickly hopped over to the archway separating the dining room from the foyer, and took cover behind the wall, taking peeks to observe the redhead and try to gauge how she was doing so well. It couldn't be Bloo, in fact he could only be slowing her down, _how was she doing it?_ "Having fun Mr H?" Frankie asked, not looking up from her work, Herriman on the other hand let out an undignified yelp and leapt 3 foot in the air. Frankie tried and failed to stifle her mocking giggles at the rabbit's faux-pas. "I wasn't spying on you!" Herriman asserted desperately, before straightening his clothes and trying to make himself look more presentable. Frankie raised her hands defensively and grinned, "Hey, I never said you were,"

"Good," the rabbit said sternly,

"So… what were you doing?" Frankie asked nonchalantly

"Huh?" Frankie tried not to smirk as Foster's own resident rabbit fumbled desperately while trying to come up with a realistic excuse, "I was um… inspecting the bust of Madame Foster, to make sure it wasn't broken!" Herriman crossed his arms, as if defying Frankie to try and discredit what he said,

"You mean that bust that you have 200 copies of?" Frankie enquired, trying to sound as innocent as possible. Mr Herriman glared at Frankie, his brow furrowing around his shining monocle, he suddenly stepped forward, so that he was there was mere inches separating him and the care-taker. "Look, _young lady_, I don't know how you're achieving such an unprecedented level of efficiency, but I sincerely hope you're not having any assistance."

"Well I erm…" Frankie stammered nervously, trying to avoid the Herriman's less-than-impressed gaze, "Because if you are," the house president interrupted, not wanting to hear any half-baked excuses the caretaker could cook up, "Then the consequences for you could be dire," Herriman articulated threateningly to the redhead, whose growing anger now helped her to find her voice. "Yeah, I am! Bloo is helping me in the kitchenry, and I think that you'll find, neither of us ever specified that I couldn't have any help," _Damn_, Herriman knew she was right on that point, "So _Bugs_, don't come into the dining room and start threatening me, because all it shows me is that you know you're gonna lose, and you're just scared!" Herriman stood, stock-still, his glare softening,

"Oh Miss Frances you've caught me," He lamented, too dramatically for Frankie not to be suspicious, "Well I best retreat back to my paperwork, I don't want to get in your way any further." Frankie shrugged and got back to her work, her determination greater than ever, she turned to see Bloo laying the rest of the table, "Good job Bloo, fancy helping me with some more jobs?"

"Sure," Bloo responded enthusiastically, he still didn't feel like he had made it up to Frankie yet, so he rushed over to join her. Herriman on the other hand was not so sociable; he shut the door to his office, immediately succumbing to a fit of snobbish chuckles when he heard the soft click signifying his privacy, _extraordinary circumstances indeed._

The alarm went off in Mac, Wilt and Ed's room, Mac awoke first, groggily turning the alarm off and arising from the warm, linen embrace of his bedclothes and stepping onto the cold floor. He squealed at the temperature, only remembering he had his slippers next to his bed after he had made the fateful contact with the glacier beneath his feet. He slipped on the warm footwear, and made his way out of the dormitory to go to the bathroom. His face instantly collided with Frankie's chest, and they were sent sprawling to the floor, Frankie immediately switched to 'doting mother' mode, "OHMYGOSHMACAREYOUOKAY?" Frankie immediately said while helping the eight year old onto his feet, "Yeah Frankie I'm fine," Mac chuckled, now over the initial shock of being shunted by his scarlet-haired friend. "Are you sure?" Frankie enquired, her voice thick with worry,

"Yeah I'm okay; anyway shouldn't you be making breakfast?" Mac asked,

"Already done," Frankie announce proudly, laughing when she saw the shock on Mac's face, "Ha-ha is it really that unbelievable?"

"No, no… well kind of…yeah it is that unbelievable," Mac admitted, expecting Frankie to get angry. However Frankie simply smiled, "Well I did have some help," Frankie confessed,

"But Wilt's in there," Mac responded, gesturing to the still-sleeping imaginary friend in his room, Frankie laughed again, her mirth increasing when an incredulous-sounding shrill voice rang-out from behind the estate manager, "So it has to be Wilt that helps out Frankie?"

"You?" Mac yelled, waking up his two sleeping friends with his stunned exclamation, Wilt chorused the word 'sorry' over and over again, while Ed screamed something in Spanish. Mac was still focused on Bloo though, "You've been helping Frankie?" His voice oozing with barely contained scepticism,

"Why wouldn't I be?" Bloo asked of his creator,

"Because you break all of the rules, are lazy, never help anyone but yourself and you decorated the kitchen in puddings as well as probably giving Coco PTSD yesterday!" Mac cried, seemingly furious at the whole scandalous occurrence. "Your point?" Bloo queried, apparently un-affected by his kid's verbal lashing. "Mac," Frankie interrupted, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Bloo apologised,"

"But I helped him write than apology! And I didn't do that for him, I did it for you Frankie. _I'm_ still angry at him for what he did yesterday!" Mac interrupted,

"I know, and it was a very nice apology Mac," Frankie replied, "But he and I worked it out," Mac narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "How many cookies did he give you?" He asked,

"What? How dare you Mac, implying I would just forgive anyone of anything if they gave me cookies!" Frankie retorted, her offended façade not fooling Mac in the slightest. "Ok he gave me a large portion of Grandma's cookie's," Frankie conceded, not surprising Mac at all, "But, although I wouldn't accept it Bloo gave me his first ever paddleball," Mac immediately dropped his anger at that statement, however he didn't relinquish all of his mistrust, he turned to his imaginary friend. "Bloo, did you really give Frankie your first paddleball."

"Yes I did, I bequeathed my first paddleball to Lady Francis here," Bloo replied, somewhat overestimating the gravitas of the situation. "Did you ask for it back?" Mac still questioned his friend, eager to extract very detail of Bloo's uncharacteristic generosity, "No, I said Frankie should have it, she made me take it back," Bloo replied proudly, Mac looked towards Frankie, seeking her silent conformation of the tale Bloo had just told. Upon Frankie nodding, Mac smiled, and gave his friend a hug to make up, a hug that Bloo tried to squirm and wriggle out of. "Friends again?" Mac queried of his embarrassed companion, "Yeah whatever, just don't hug me in the presence of ladies, it's bad for my rep," Bloo's two friends laughed, "What about me? Can a lady hug you?" Frankie chortled, scooping up the boy and his blob, and squeezing them. "Frankie…I can't…breathe," Mac wheezed,

"Not done!" Frankie immediately replied, her eyes shut as they always were when she hugged anyone. Frankie held onto the duo for a few more seconds before releasing them for her vice-like grip, where upon they started gasping for breath theatrically. "Need any extra help?" Asked the grinning form of Wilt, now over his shock awakening, "Well I think me and Blob-boy over here have got most it covered," Frankie pondered, "But I could definitely use some help when I go to the supermarket," Frankie wanted to be as quick as possible at the shops, considering her outburst yesterday it was a wonder they hadn't barred her for the rest of her life. "You got it!" Wilt jovially exclaimed, giving an enthusiastic thumbs-up, "Ok, how about any of you that want to help, meet me in the foyer at quarter to one?" Wilt, Mac and the now awake Ed all gave the caretaker nods of conformation. She quickly bided them her gratitude, before rushing off to the upper levels of Foster's with her marine shaded, door-shaped helper.

Herriman sneaked into the kitchen, breathing a hoarse sigh of relief as he saw the gleaming white room vacant. He checked the fridge, to find the shopping list for today pinned under a myriad of irritating magnetic trinkets. He tried to brush them aside, only to find them clumping and sticking together, gluing the flimsy paper list only harder to the refrigerator. After a minute or so he withdrew from the battle triumphant and to the victor his spoils, the shopping list. He took out a pen from the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket, and added a few items to it, he couldn't have the visitor without their munitions when they arrived later. He pinned it back to the fridge and was about to leave, when he caught a sight of himself on its chrome surface. He was stunned, completely speechless, for the rabbit that stared back couldn't be Mr Herriman, esteemed head of business of affairs and President at Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, it was impossible, for this rabbit had a hair out of place. To the rest of the foster home's residents wouldn't have batted an eyelid at the felonious lock, but to him it was so much more. In his normal state, Herriman would never let this happen; he would always be in check, in order and certainly not a scruffy ragamuffin like the rabbit in the fridge's door. He suddenly felt a wave of guilt rush over him, he had reduced himself to a cheater, a delinquent, this was something he would expect for Master Blooregard, not hare of decency like himself. He again seized the list and went to scribble out his newly added consumables. "Hey there bunny," a small voice from behind greeted Herriman, earning a sigh from the aged house president, "For the last time, I am not 'bunny', I am Mr Herr-" Herriman prepared to give the house member one of his infamous tongue lashings, only to see not a mere Foster's resident, but his creator, her eyebrows raised at his retort to her friendly address. "Oh my Madame, I do apologise!" Herriman grovelled, eager to smooth out any creases his insolence may have caused between him and his 'kid'. Madame Foster only laughed, "It's OK bunny," she dismissed the whole affair with a wave of her hand, "So what's on your mind?" She queried, leaning against a cabinet,

"Madame?"

"Oh come now Herriman," the little old lady scoffed, a knowing smile plastered on her face, "The only time you don't instantly recognise me is when there's something on your mind, so spill," She said, halfway between an order and reassurance, "It's nothing Madame," Herriman replied mournfully, he couldn't have his creator knowing of what he almost did, that he almost sabotaged Frankie, by calling… "It wouldn't be that bet you made with Frankie would it?" The Madame asked casually, however to Herriman it was the worst question she could have asked, he went speechless and immediately wheeled around, however Madame Foster was unaware of the impact her question she had, "It's just I heard Frankie saying how she was going to 'beat your furry cotton-tailed butt in the bet tomorrow', ha-ha, kids today!" the old woman cackled, before hobbling out of the room, shouting an over-the-shoulder goodbye to Herriman, who remained standing stupidly in the same position. Like a meteorite taking out a small planet, al feelings of guilt in the hare had been reduced to nothingness, their replacement, being a dark feeling of anger, focused solely on that insolent redheaded girl. He put his pen back into his jacket, of course neglecting to delete the newest additions, if that girl thought she was going to beat his 'furry cotton tailed butt' she definitely had another thing coming. He once again returned to his paperwork, now counting down the seconds until half-three.

Frankie checked her watch, wondering if she should just strap it over her eye to save time. She and Bloo had 15 minutes to finish the laundry if Frankie wanted to remain at least half an hour in front of Herriman's schedule. Bloo had once again taken to Frankie's jobs like a fish to wonder, begging the question, why was Bloo, who apparently wouldn't be out of place next to 'Kim and Aggie', so lazy? She finished ironing another T-shirt and handed it to the blob by her side, this one had '私は、恋の魂を解放するすべての人に幸せたい！' and a picture of a smiling fish on it, imaginary friends really did have odd senses of style. Frankie looked down at herself after her thought on the dress senses of figments, she realise she was none to talk considering she was a twenty year old woman with 'Courage the Cowardly Dog' emblazoned across it. Frankie finished the last article of clothing and handed it to Bloo, who diligently folded it; she hadn't seen him this concentrated on anything since they ran that paddleball exposé on what must have been a terrifically slow news day. "Okay what next?" Bloo immediately yelled, over-zealously would be an understatement. He was sweating ever so slightly and had a very forced smile on his face. Together they had dusted the library, put all the baby-friends down for a nap, sanitised the lavatories, waxed the foyer-floor and tended to the garden, needless to say, this was a lot. Frankie got down to Bloo's level, who was still wearing his fake smile, a massive, toothy, ear-to-ear grin. "Bloo, I know what you're doing," Frankie gently told the on-edge figment, unfortunately it did nothing to alleviate his stress. "Come on Frankie, we need to-" Frankie cut him off with a hug, it wasn't one of her usual, 'squeeze the life out of someone' hugs, rather a gentle, affectionate embrace. It did its purpose, and silenced the jabbering blob, who finally seemed like he had relaxed. "Bloo, you've really helped me today, I couldn't of done it this fast without you, and you've given me a large helping of my favourite cookies," She released him from the cuddle, "You've done enough," She said, her voice thick with finality, she wasn't just saying this, the ghost shaped friend really had redeemed himself. "But what about-" Bloo frantically tried to cut in, but Frankie again silenced him "Yesterday is forgotten Bloo, now go and get something to eat, us ladies in the house don't want you to lose your figure," she grinned, her joke successfully lightening to mood. Bloo looked as if he was about to protest again, "Bloo, I've told you once, I forgive you, and I'm very grateful for your help today," she gave the friend a quick kiss to the forward to symbolise her gratitude, Bloo promptly wiped off any trace of the kiss, promoting a laugh from the redhead, "Ewwwww! Keep your kisses to yourself lady!"

"Only if you go now, you've done enough!" Frankie retorted, Bloo obeyed and sped from the room, not dropping his disgusted facial expression, however when she was out of sight, Bloo smiled warmly, he had never really been all that close to Frankie, but he was glad to know that today, that had changed.

Frankie walked down into the foyer, seeing her self-volunteered helpers; waiting for her there was Ed, Wilt and Mac. "OK guys I just need to get the shopping list," She said to her personal shoppers, who went back to talking amongst themselves. Frankie walked into the kitchen and seized the list from underneath its magnetic shields, the redhead made her way back into the foyer, reading Herriman's preposterously fancy writing as she walked, "Ok," Frankie thought aloud when she was confident she had an idea what the bunny had written. She was about to lead her troupe to the vibrant Foster's bus, when she came upon a minor discrepancy, "Hmm, Herriman's added a couple of things, do we really need these?" she queried, presenting the paper to Wilt, who simply shrugged, "Huh, well it's not important, anyway we better not question our grand and benevolent house president," Frankie stated sarcastically, earning her some chuckles from her companions, "Ok guys, let's get going." The estate manager led the boys out of the house and they made their way down the unnecessarily long path towards the wiry black gates of Fosters. Herriman sat in his office, once again scowling, the words of his rival still ringing in his ears, and although they were in his Madame's voice, they hadn't failed to incite rage in him whenever he remembered them. Frankie had come so close to realising the significance of the items he had added to her shopping list, the products could only relate to one person when together, 3 items bound to drive said individual wild, well, wilder than they were usually. Well that's what she gets for being so overconfident, Herriman said inwardly to himself, and to think he almost delete the items from the list, Herriman scoffed at the very thought. He took another glance at his the gleaming face of his antique grandfather clock, not long now Miss Frances.

"IT WAS, IT WAS UN SPIDER!" Eduardo yelled frantically, no matter how small the little leaps of fear the supposed 'guardian-friend' was doing in his seat were, his massive bulk was all but causing Frankie to lose control of the multi-coloured bus. Wilt was scampering around less-than-clean floor of the large vehicle, trying desperately to either find the spider or show Ed there was no such insect to be afraid of, Mac on the other hand, just had his head in his hands, trying to block out the grating sound of Ed's shrieking. Frankie pulled over in a layby, she was grinding her teeth, a trait almost coupled with her legendary rage, however she managed to calm herself by rubbing her temples. Frankie got up from her seat and went over to the bawling violet figment. "Ed, there are no spiders on this bus, now you wanted to come and help so please be quiet and stop jumping so that I can get us to the supermarket in one peace, ok?" Frankie stroked Ed's fur as she comforted him; however something in her voice told Eduardo that relapsing into his petrified state would have dire consequences for him, he sniffled, before gently nodding at Frankie, however he was unsure whether to be frightened or grateful.

They eventually arrived at the supermarket, the odd colour-scheme of the bus drawing a few glances as it did everywhere. However even more glances were drawn when the young woman and her boy companion exited the bus with an alpine crimson beanpole, couple with an enormous purple monster. Frankie walked over the long metal procession of shopping trolleys; she was unfortunately unsurprised when the trolley didn't come unstuck from the one in-front, no matter how hard she yanked. "Es OK senorita Frankie, I do it," Ed interrupted Frankie's desperate attempts to get the trolley out of its line. Ed stepped forward and wrenched the trolley from its counterpart, it immediately came unstuck, in fact the whole line of trolleys jutted backward with the force of Ed's pull. He turned to face the stunned faces of his friends, brandishing the trolley proudly above his head; he had it suspended there effortlessly with one hand, earning them even more confused stares from other shoppers in the car park. The mismatched troupe entered the supermarket, "Ok how're we gonna do this?" Frankie thought aloud,

"Well I can get around the quickest," offered Mac, his short stature offering easy passage through the throngs of busy shoppers, "And I can see over all the aisles," Wilt chipped in, his height offering a distinct advantage in the packed shop. "In fact," Wilt added, before demonstrating another unique ability giving him a leg up on the average sized shoppers, he reached clean over into the next aisle, and brought back 4 loaves of bread, a feat which earned even more funny looks, the amount of which now feeling reminiscent of a film star surrounded by paparazzi. The group instinctively turned to Ed, their gazes questioning what he could bring to the table, "People are afraid of me?" he said, his voice unsure to whether that would be a help or a hindrance to the group, but sure enough as the group moved, the crowd parted around them, each shopper trying to get far away from what they perceived as a monster. "Ok," Frankie said to her personal shoppers, "If you each get a basket we can divide the list into quarters, and meet back at the butchers section in fifteen minutes, OK?" The boys all nodded, Frankie tore the list into 4, trying to be as accurate as possible, she took the largest section since she had the trolley, and with that they were off, melting into the groups of busy shoppers.

Frankie absentmindedly piled the items on her section of the list into the trolley, she was a lot more focused today, a clear step up from the volatile, uncaring beast that had entered the very same supermarket yesterday, needless to say she wasn't going to be putting anymore of 'Dr Marigold's triple concentrate pipe organ detergent' into the trolley. Frankie eventually came to the final 3 items on the list, she looked at the writing suspiciously, Frankie knew that they had those 3 items in the house. She had seen all of the while making breakfast, plus Herriman hadn't written them in his usual hieroglyphic like script, he had even gone as far to underline the 3 products, but _why?_ Frankie knew it was probably nothing but it still felt weird, after a second of fruitless pondering the caretaker simply shrugged and found the three noteworthy items, then made her way to the butchers section. She checked her watch, it turned out she had a few minutes before her friends were due to arrive so she simply leant up against a ghastly cut-out of some B-list celebrity shamelessly advertising that they were a sworn user of some product. A speech bubble coming from the tango-skinned bimbo swore 'Viki can't live without Salicylic Acid deep blackhead cleanse!' _well good for Viki_. From the bustling crowds she saw Mac appear, he expertly navigated under the legs of the shoppers, getting right to Frankie in a matter of seconds, "Hey pal," Frankie greeted, "You're good at that,"

"Yeah I used to do it for my Mum before…" Mac suddenly looked down, all happiness now vacant from his speech, "Oh Mac, it's OK," Frankie tried to cheer the child up, she gave him a hug, and he warmed slightly. "OK so put your shopping in the trolley," Frankie said enthusiastically, trying to get him off thinking of his mother, however one glance at the chemically whitened teeth of 'Viki', seemed to do the job better than Frankie could, "Eww, who's that!" Mac asked, his tongue stuck out in his revulsion, Frankie chuckled, "That's Viki Mac! How do you not know Viki? She's only the most beautiful famous girl in the entire land," Frankie teased, much to the antipathy of Mac,

"I hope you're joking," Mac replied, "She's worse than Bloo when he was advertising that stupid deodorant." Frankie laughed uproariously upon remembering her friends five minutes of fame.

She turned around to try and spot her other two friends, however she saw one person that caused her to feel like all food had just vanished from her belly, it was the leather-skinned harpy Frankie had verbally assaulted yesterday. Frankie immediately turned around, hoping the woman hadn't noticed her, "Mac," Frankie whispered hoarsely "What is that lady doing?" Frankie asked desperately,

"Which one?" Mac asked, as he surveyed the crowds to try and find the reason Frankie had turned as still as a day old can of pop. "The one with seven kids," Frankie asserted as loudly as possible without attracting attention, "Oh you mean the one coming over," Mac said, not quite understanding why Frankie pupils constricted to the size of pinpricks at that sentence. "Hey lady!" The woman croaked from behind Frankie, "Yes," Frankie tried to reply casually, however the beads of sweat on her brow were now letting her down. "You're that lady who screamed at me yesterday," she yelled, causing many customers to turn around and observe the growing scene, "Well why don't you shout at me now," the woman hollered, jabbing a pink-nailed finger in Frankie's chest. "Look, I just want to get on with my shopping, and I think you'll find that you pushed in front of me in the queue," Frankie replied, trying to keep her voice low in an effort to dispel the growing crowd. "Is this your kid? God, you must've had him when you were twelve," The cantankerous wench scoffed, Frankie's fists clenched, her heart beat was rising, "No he's not my child, but I suggest you leave him out of this." Frankie said menacingly

"Why what are you gonna do abo-" The woman trailed off, the skin not covered in nicotine patches draining in colour. Frankie turned around to see what had shut the old witch up, a very confused looking Eduardo, Frankie smirked diabolically, "I won't do anything, but my friend here," Frankie said, gesturing to the object of the woman's fear, "Si!" Agreed Ed, not quite sure of what he was confirming, "Senorita Frankie es un bueno amigo mío!" The woman hadn't understood what Eduardo had said, but to her it sounded like a death threat, she slunk away as quickly as she'd started the argument, muttering something offensive about the now-grinning Frankie. Finally a befuddled Wilt joined them, "What's with all the crowds?" he queried,

"Oh nothing," Frankie dismissed, her smile telling Wilt it was definitely not nothing, however he abandoned the issue, and joined his friends on their way to the tills.

The four shoppers loaded their haul onto the eye-catching Foster's bus; the space of the seats was rapidly being occupied by the plastic bags full of food. They all boarded the bus and started the journey home. "So Frankie, what do you have to do after we get back?" Mac asked, making small talk with the redhead, "Nothing," Frankie replied, casually, taking a second to realise the significance of that truth. Her eyes immediately went wide, and she immediately checked her watch, the importance of her eyes being on the road having no meaning to the ecstatic Foster's caretaker "Quarter past three!" she shrieked triumphantly, causing Ed to jump in fright slightly, his mass creating a sensation like the bus had impacted with a small elephant. "All I need to do is load the shopping into the kitchen and I am done!" Frankie yelled, relinquishing her hold on the steering wheel for a second to punch the air victoriously. "Frankie…erm I'm sorry but…Frankie you need to…EYES ON THE ROAD!" Wilt yelled, snapping the crimson-locked woman out of her celebrations, "Oh god, sorry Wilt." She quickly corrected herself, and concentrated on the road to Fosters, each metre of tarmac bringing closer to home, and oh boy, was she going to gloat.

They arrived back at the house at twenty five past three; Mac, Wilt and Ed had offered to help Frankie load the bags into the kitchenry and unpack them. It took them but five minutes, and Frankie was officially done, she had won her bet. "Ok guys I'm gonna go rub it in the Bunny's face, see you in a bit," She yelled until the voice of Mac stopped her, "Frankie you bought some things we already have,"

"Oh Herriman put them on the list sometime today," Frankie dismissed with a wave of her hand,

"Oh, doesn't really seem like Herriman would be that interested in these things," Mac said, in reference to the three offending items, Mr. Herriman had been so insistent on buying. "Well he must have wanted a large amount of them," she explained to Mac, still unsure herself why Herriman would at all be interested in potatoes, cereal and chocolate milk.

Herriman saw the visitor before he heard the doorbell, he and his quizzical-looking creator hand in hand. Every step she led him up the path, adding to the rabbits snickering, every crooked step he took, his mirth increased, he was here.

DING-DONG.

* * *

><p>Please read and review!<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Foster's Fanfiction

Here is the last chapter of _The Schedule_, this started off about Frankie's wager but has become more an account of her feelings around the house, this chapter is very Herriman-heavy so I hope you like him, Thankyou to anyone who has read and even more to those who left me a review, the names of said people are listed below in a 'special thankyous' list.

Review Responses

**Aden666-**I hope you're idea proves right in this chapter, and I hope that you will continue to read my fics in the future, if you have any ideas and suggestions for any future fics I could publish, please make them known via a review or a PM.

**Suzukipot- **Thankyou for the review, I hope you will enjoy the rest of the fic and I hope you will read any of my future fics when I publish them.

Special Thankyous

**Kammy101- **Thanks for your reviews, they both made me laugh, and Thankyou for waiting, which was as truly fantastic

**TheMasterofDespair- **Thankyou for your review, and I hope your Berry story will be up soon

**Aden666- **Thankyou for your enthusiastic reviews, which twice made me get up off my arse and get down to writing this story

**Tomas the Betrayer- **Thankyou for your more than thorough review, it really has given me food for thought

**Suzukipot-** Thankyou for joining in with the reviewing

**Dude13- **Last but definitely not least, Thankyou for your constant encouragement and enthusiasm not just on this story but the rest of my unpublished series

**I hope you will all continue to read an review my fics in the future, but most importantly enjoy them :) **

I will respond to any review of this chapter in the first chapter of my next fic, which you can expect before the end of this week, also the f-bomb is dropped in this final chapter, you have been warned :)

The Schedule-Chapter 6

The doorbell rang through the kitchen; Frankie's boasting session with Herriman would have to wait a minute. DING-DONG, it rang again, DING-DONG, and again, it rang again and again and again as Frankie sped into the Foyer, and finally opened the large doors to the Foster home, her proposed snarky comment of 'I heard you the first time' was never uttered, in its stead Frankie simply whimpered at the sight of a stunted little yellow creature, complete with a dripping strawberry ice-cream, it. "Hey-lo kitty," Cheese enthusiastically greeted Frankie, spraying her with the melted frozen treat he had now forgotten. "Louise, you know you can't bring Cheese here!" Frankie desperately said, while trying to keep the bizarre little imagining from entering the premises. "But Mr.-" whatever Louise was about to say was drowned out by the shrieking of Cheese as he got past Frankie and subsequently into the gleaming Foster's foyer, "Wanna go swimming!" he yelled, then fell to the floor and began performing a hideous imitation of what was either breast-stroke, or having a heart attack, he smeared the floor with strawberry ice-cream as he did so, creating a red 'ode to snow angel' on the tiles Frankie had cleaned today. Frankie immediately wheeled round to Louise, "Do you know how to calm him down,"

"Not when he's this excited," Louise winced as the pale-yellow friend knocked over Madame Foster's bust, and immediately ran into the dining room. "Oh God!" Frankie moaned and sped after him, leaving a severely confused looking Louise alone in the foyer, alone until Mr. Herriman came out to talk to her. "Good day Miss Louise, as per our agreement we will look after Cheese for the rest of the afternoon to give you a couple of hours off," Louise took on more look at the shattered bust, before simply shrugging and starting home. Herriman chuckled as he hopped back to his office, taking in the sight of the now filthy foyer on his way, _let the games begin_.

"Mac can you hear that?" Wilt asked his friend, who in turn began listening intently for a sound he couldn't hear. "No sorry Wilt… oh no I can hear it, it sounds like…screaming," Mac confirmed worriedly, earning a frightened squeak from Ed as the disturbing noise intensified. Suddenly the crescendo approached, the noise got louder and louder, and finally a pale yellow-pigmy like character burst into the kitchen, he seized a bag a flour from the terrified Ed and poured it all over himself, "I LIKE THE FAIR!" Cheese shrieked while performing some bizarre dance, showering the kitchen and all of its occupants with flour.

"Stop him!" a disheveled Frankie hollered, Ed was the first to try to catch Cheese, however the irritating little figment simply blew a large raspberry in Ed's face, causing the Hispanic friend to drop Cheese in shock. Next was Wilt, whose long arm could have ensnared Cheese if he hadn't sunk his teeth into the crimson appendage. Mac was the last bastion of defence to the rest of the house, Mac had dealt with Cheese before and knew what to do, he tackled the pot-belied oddity of his feet and lay on top of him, both parties smothered in a white coating of flour. "What are we gonna do Frankie?" Mac frantically asked, as he got up from the floury floor, hauling his hostage with him, "Yeah, we get rid of him Frankie, if that's Ok?" Wilt tried to sound too assertive, however his compulsive need for conformation let him down, Ed simply cemented everything his friends by feverishly exclaiming 'Si' repeatedly. Frankie was not listening though, she was stunned, stood as still as a weeping angel under the most powerful scrutiny.

Today, it had to be today, she would never get this cleaned up, and Herriman was going to win. "Frankie!" She was brought back to reality by the strident of wailing of Mac, visibly struggling with his wriggling payload, "I don't know," the redhead uttered quietly, she leant up against the counter, feeling she may topple unless she had something stable to prop herself up. "Frankie, we can't just do nothing," again the redhead was deaf to the appeals of her friends, "I could unload this bag?" Eduardo offered, trying his best to be helpful in this utterly helpless situation. Frankie just sat, completely dejected, however while Ed was unloading the last shopping into the pantry she heard Cheese's wheezing breathing hitch, she miserably brought her head up, to see what was causing the momentary disturbance of his self-ventilation, and felt her heart sink to the lowest she could remember.

"Erm guys…HELP!" Mac yelled, the pale yellow nuisance in his hands began to writhe in excitement as he caught sight of the cereal, potatoes and chocolate milk they had purchased earlier. She had to help Mac not get killed by the energized friend in his grasp so Frankie, along with Ed and Wilt tried to contain him, but got to Mac too late, Cheese wriggled out of his grasp and ran over to pantry that contained his ambrosia. What he did next was surprisingly co-ordinated for a little troglodyte such as himself. He stuck a potato in his mouth and sucked it like a dummy, he then tore open the boxes of cereal and crunched up the various, pops, wheats and flakes that came out before massaging them into his scalp, any of the other occupants in the kitchen that tried to stop his rampage were subjected to a potato being launched at them.

He then proceeded to run over to the sink, still catapulting potatoes at anyone who tried to interrupt him; he grabbed a large glass pitcher and emptied out the bright blue liquid inside it. He then filled it with water and added the milkshake mix, ignoring the rather paramount procedure of adding milk, to your milkshake. Frankie made one last desperate attempt to stop the rampaging nitwit, only to get a potato to the forehead. Cheese sprinted from the kitchen and back into the foyer, clutching his precious chocolatey elixir close to his chest, seeming protective of it regardless of the fact that most of the watery concoction was simply spilling onto the floor. The floor Frankie had toiled cleaning earlier. "Guys we need to catch him," Mac beseeched of his companions, who needed to no convincing, they had all suffered at the hands of the hands of Cheese's fierce excitement, however only Wilt and Eduardo had confirmed. "Frankie?" Mac asked, the caretaker had clammed-up again,

"I've lost guys," Frankie absentmindedly said, her voice sounded uncaring; however this was the polar opposite to how she felt inwardly. "Frankie," Wilt said sternly, reminiscent to the way he would chastise her when she was little, "Now the Frankie Foster I know doesn't give, up, I'm sorry but it's not OK, now come on, let's get cheese out the house and clean up, we've got over an hour!" Whereas it may not have been much, that speech really did resonate with Frankie, he might as well have been called Wilt Wallace at that moment, because without his words Frankie never would have shaken off her misery. "OK guys, we need a plan,"

The plan was a simple…ish, okay it wasn't simple, and it depended mostly on chance. Cheese loved food; he was excited by anything he could eat, so they were hoping that when Jackie Khones finished making his exotic sandwiches and took them into his room as he nearly always did at 4:10, cheese would be attracted. Khones was the bait; he just didn't know it yet. This would be where Wilt would be hiding, he would then chase Cheese into Bloppy-Pants' and Sunset-Junction's room, whereupon there would only be one accessible exit for the yellow nuisance. Assuming he left Bloppy-Pants and Sunset-Junction unmolested and left the room, he would then be scared by Ed down the first left corridor, to make sure Cheese was petrified of Ed they were able to rustle up a sheep costume from the playroom, sheep being Cheese's chief fear. After he ran down the aforementioned first left hallway, Mac would be waiting with a jug of Chocolate milk, subsequently leading Cheese back down into the foyer, where, if all goes according to plan Frankie would be waiting with a butterfly net, that being the only suitable item the cheese-hunters could rustle up in such a small space of time.

Once he was caught he could hopefully be deposited on the path or in busy traffic depending on how much damage he did, Mac sincerely hoped Frankie was just joking about that part of the plan. However in her present state he was really unsure, Frankie looked close to snapping. The plan was unnecessarily convoluted, when Wilt raised this issue Frankie had simply replied, "You know they say the best solutions to problems are the simplest ones? Well that's completely wrong." The main flaw in the 'plan' although it was generous to dub it that, rather an unlikely sequence of coincidences that they would have to 'hope' would happen rather than influence directly. Added to this, the diagram Frankie had drawn on a window with a dry-wipe marker was very unclear, Mac, Wilt and Ed, being the key-players in this scheme had only half an idea where they were going, as Frankie had said 'that corridor' and 'this hallway' in favour of any specifics. "Frankie why don't I just lead him with the chocolate milk without all this leading down halls business," Mac enquired impatiently,

"Isn't it obvious?" Frankie responded nanoseconds after the last syllable had left Mac's mouth.

"No…not really," the unnerved child answered,

"He already has a jug of chocolate milk, if we scare him he's bound to drop it," Mac hated to admit it but that did make sense. "Right, you're part in the plans finished, if you can go straight to cleaning up any messes he's made in the house, we might just get this done," Frankie informed her troops, "But he can't find out, we don't want him going all 'Admiral Akbar' on our butts," Frankie stressed this especially, Mac and Wilt grinned at Frankie's reference, Ed was just puzzled. What does maritime rank have to do with this he asked himself inwardly.

Wilt chewed his bottom lip, a nervous trait he had been exhibiting frequently over the course of this day. He was aware of Jackie's presence by the grace of his nostrils and not his eyes; he smelled the gorgeous fragrance of the food the broccoli-like imagining had prepared for himself, before he saw the small green creature struggling under the weight of his haul. Jackie dropped one of the crisps towered high on his tray of delectable food; he calmly set down his plate and threw the dropped crisp into a nearby bin. Wilt chewed his lip harder, praying to every deity he'd ever heard that their irritating antagonist would make his presence known; he chewed and chewed, only slowing down when he tasted the metallic tang of blood on his tongue. Jackie began to ascend the stairs adjacent to the corridor in which the first phase of their plan was to be initiated. "Hey Jackie," Wilt said, standing in his way to try and stall his ignorant bait. "Wilt," Jackie sneered, making no effort to cover up his long-running distain for the alpine basketball player, "How are you?" Wilt asked, his grin quivering with stress, "Can I just get to my room?" Jackie asked impatiently,

"No, I mean yes! Wait, I mean…erm I mean… I don't know what I mean," Jackie simply walked under Wilt's legs as he babbled with anxiety. It took him a full minute to realise that their lure had exited the uncomfortable situation. Wilt shrugged dejectedly, mournfully walking back to his waiting spot to prepare for the inevitable tirade of animosity coming his way when the group found out he had blown it. However it never came, what did come was a buttery coloured friend; he hobbled down the hallway, clutching a pitcher of the chocolatey-water concoction he had fabricated earlier. When he and Wilt they both froze, Wilt's stalk eyes met Cheese's bloodshot ones, and the plan suddenly clicked in Wilt's head. He positioned himself around the statuesque Cheese, so that he could jolt him down the correct corridor. "Boo!" Wilt yelled at Cheese, who carried on staring at him, "Erm… AHHHRRRGGG!" Wilt hollered at the figment, who was once again unfazed, "Come on Wilt, think….think!" Wilt's self-pep-talk did next to nothing, until he remembered the costume Eduardo was wearing. "Erm…BAAA?" Wilt cried at Cheese, unsure as to whether it would scare him.

It did, oh boy it did, Cheese's pupils constricted smaller than the red pinpricks that they were already, he dropped the pitcher he was carrying, it fell to the floor and clattered, its contents leaking onto the wooden floor, and Cheese sped down the correct hallway, it was working. Wilt stayed on Cheese's tail and chased him into the room Bloppy-Pants and Sunset-Junction shared. The two friends looked up from their card game, shocked at the sight of Wilt chasing Cheese and making sheep noises frantically.

"Make sheep noises, MAKE SHEEP NOISES!" Wilt screamed, earning two confused glances, "NOW!" Wilt screamed harder, his normally jovial manner now dropped completely. Bloppy-Pants and Sunset-Junction worriedly started doing as Wilt asked, causing Cheese to shriek like a banshee. He then ran out the room, through the correct exit, it was surprisingly going all to plan. Wilt tailed Cheese down to when he ran into the next phase of the plan. A wild Eduardo appeared, Eduardo used 'Sheep Costume', it's super effective! Wilt smiled and vacated the area, he had cleaning to do. Eduardo chased Cheese down the correct hallway, surprised at how well the plan was going, however he couldn't help but feel self-conscious as he ran screaming while adorned in a large sheep costume. He eventually reached Mac, who leapt out and began waving the jug of chocolate-milk at the now entranced Cheese.

Ed gave Mac a grin before rushing off to help Wilt with the arduous cleaning process. "Chocolate-milk Cheese, it's your favourite," Mac crooned to the drooling figment, however as Mac began to exit the corridor, Cheese didn't follow, rather he stayed staring at what had enraptured him, which Mac realised, much to his dismay, wasn't the jug of dairy deliciousness the boy clasped. Mac followed Cheese's eye-line and saw what the source of his delight was; his 'brother' far down the hallway, entering his room, there always had to be a flaw in the plan.

Bloo mournfully walked into the room he shared with Mac, Eduardo and Wilt, and Coco, her being the reason he slept on a settee yesterday. He entered the dormitory, to find Coco sat in her nest, it was evident she knew it was Bloo, and was doing a terrific job of ignoring him. Bloo sighed and tried to stand so she could see him; Coco only swiveled in her green resting place. "Coco, I'm sorry about yesterday," Bloo said mournfully, Coco suddenly stopped swiveling, apparently caught off guard by Bloo's apology, and fairness to her, he didn't give them often. "I was angry that you videotaped me, but I can see now that I really overreacted," Coco turned to meet his eyes; they were full of regret and sincerity. "I'm not gonna ask for the tape, I don't deserve it, in fact all I deserve is you to show it to everyone," Bloo lamented,

"Coco?" she asked, her voice curt and unimpressed,

"Yes, I did act like a pig,"

"Coco?"

"And a psycho,"

"Coco?"

"Yes I did act like a…well I don't really wanna say that out-loud," he winced at the language with which Coco had described him. Bloo was hopeful she had forgiven him as the ghost of a smile flitted onto her beak, however the moment was ruined as Cheese, followed by a frantic looking Mac burst in. "Cheese?" Bloo cried at the sight of his pseudo-sibling, but cheese was no longer interested in the gelatinous blue friend, rather the wacky-looking avian one, sat wide-eyed in her bed. "Kiss the birdy!" Cheese chanted as he sped over to Coco, his lips pursed. Coco tried to get out of her bed until she realised it was pointless and she grimaced as she braced herself for the incoming attack of saliva. Bloo sprang into action; he leapt to offer himself as a meat-shield for the fearful looking bird, his tongue stuck out in revulsion as Cheese assaulted the side of his head with a barrage of sloppy kisses. Cheese released his target and shrieked, "Birdy gone blue! Birdy gone blue!" He ran around on his stubby legs in circles, shrieking his new verse over and over. Coco stared unblinking at Bloo as he conversed frantically with Mac; she was in pure disbelief about what he just did, for her. "Bloo we need to lead him into the foyer," emphasized in a throaty whisper,

"Ok, just let me get my paddleball," Bloo replied in a similar tone,

"WHY?"

"I need to have it with me, what if Cheese comes back here and damages it?" Bloo whinged at his creator, "There's no time," Mac's words were pointless, Bloo had already opened his toy chest and began rooting around for his beloved plaything. Cheese on the other hand had stopped his circular fun-run to stare, fixated at the noises Bloo was making. "Bloo," no reply, "BLOO!" Mac's hoarse warning fell upon deaf ears, or whatever Bloo had, "Aha!" Bloo declared upon finding his prize,

"Doggy!" Cheese yelled triumphantly,

"Wha… no it's a paddle-" Bloo was cut off by Cheese running at him shrieking 'Doggy' over and over again, "Run Bloo!" Bloo needed no more telling, he tore out of the room with Mac, Cheese hot on their tail. "We gotta lead him to the foyer!"

"Why?" Bloo asked, affronted that they were using his paddleball as bait,

"Frankie's there with a net,"

"Gotcha, follow me," Bloo shouted, grabbing Mac's hand and dragging him down the adjacent corridor, straight into a lift, "Bloo!"

"What, you wanted to go down to the foyer, yeah?" Bloo asked his creator,

"Yeah but…" Mac trailed off, as they saw Cheese join them in the confined space, his mouth watering with desire. "How many floors is it?" Mac asked worriedly,

"15," Bloo replied, similar dread in his voice as Cheese advanced on them.

"God where are they?" Frankie asked herself irascibly, Mac should have come down by now. She was so focused on the grand staircase of Foster's that she didn't even pay any heed to the ding, signifying to its occupants that the lift had reached the foyer. However her attention was drawn away from the stair when Mac emerge from the lift, still clutching the jug of chocolate-milk in his little arms, "Mac…where's Cheese!" Mac simply ran past her and deposited the jug on a nearby table, and then turned his attention to the sounds of a growing struggle in the lift. "What the-" Frankie was cut off as Bloo emerged from the lift, screaming while clutching the paddleball to his chest, Cheese was quick to follow, he salivated wildly in his yearning, "Bloo throw the paddleball!" Mac screamed to his friend, Bloo ran up the stairs and turned to see Cheese closing in on him, "Bloo throw it!"

"Give me the doggy brother-lady," Cheese wailed as he walked in his unnervingly crooked manner towards Bloo. Bloo screwed his eyes shut as he performed what to him was a cardinal sin, "I AM NOT YOUR BROTHER-LADY!" he bellowed, he then launched his treasured paddleball through the air. Cheese immediately changed course and followed it, however he was not the only one to spring into action, Frankie readied her net. Many things then happened; Cheese sprang to get the paddleball, Frankie scooped him up in the net, but the paddleball, which Bloo watched with horror, expecting to fall into the clutches of Cheese who would almost certainly break it, was snatched out of the way by none other than Coco. "Gotcha!" Frankie shrieked victoriously, she wasted no time in placing the antagonising little figment outside, and yelling 'GO HOME' at him, Frankie slammed the door and sighed with relief. "Coco, how did you get down so fast?" Bloo asked his friend joyously,

"Coco coco coco coco coco coco coco coco coco coco, coco coco!" She announced proudly,

"Wow that's amazing!" Bloo shouted, his eyes wide in awe as he revelled in her tale, Frankie smiled at their exchange, before seizing a mop from the equipment cupboard to begin the long cleaning process. However she was interrupted before she could start, by a curt, throat-clear from behind her, Frankie wheeled around to come face to face with an unimpressed looking Herriman, his golden fob-watch displayed in front of her face. "It is now 5:04 Miss Frances," Frankie's jaw dropped, she couldn't believe it had taken them that long to expel Cheese from the house. "Is the house looking ship-shape Miss Frances? I would certainly say not," Herriman lectured Frankie, pacing, or rather hopping up and down before her eyes, "But…Cheese," the redhead desperately tried to interject, only to be swiftly cut off by more of Herriman's severe voice. "Not of my concern Miss Frances, you made a wager with me that you would be able to manage without my prompting, and you couldn't, now, you've lost your weekend nights off, and I do believe it is Saturday,"

"But…but I…I….but," Frankie stammered, desperately trying to covey the injustice of this situation to her austere boss. "Listen young lady," Herriman suddenly snapped, "It's not my fault you couldn't cope with your job, now I suggest that you go tend to your nightly duties," He was expecting Frankie to kick, claw and scream in protest, or at least try to call him out, but there was no such raucous display of dissent, rather she took the just sighed, shakily, her breathing uneven. Frankie turned and began mopping the filthy foyer, and although it was barely audible, Herriman heard a sob, such a tiny one, but with such an impact, he took one second to survey the expansive lobby of Foster's, whereas it may've been by the hand of Cheese, this was his doing, and the thought was eating away at him with uncharacteristic guilt. Herriman rarely felt that bitter emotion, why would he though? He was so often right, so infallible, moreover why would one feel guilt when they knew their actions were for the best. That had been the thought he had reassured himself with, he was simply doing Frankie a favour in the long-run, she would drop her insolence and immaturity after this wake up call, even he didn't believe that excuse. Masters Mac and Blooregard were glaring at Herriman, and the leer Miss Coco was throwing him could hardly be called loving, the grey hare turned around and hopped into his office, keeping his dignified manner until the doors were safely closed and he could trudge back to his desk to bury his head in his hands, wrestling with one awful truth. That did not feel like he was expecting it to.

Herriman opened the fridge and retrieved his 'special carrot juice' from its deepest recesses. He poured the liquid from its crystal glass container into a small shot glass. He downed the mixture, feeling an ever-so-slight burn in the back of his throat from the 'special' ingredient he had added, he only turned to its forbidden comforts in times of severe mental conflict, and this case was severe indeed. "Herriman," he jumped in shock, his Madame stood there, but something was wrong, she never called him that, it was always bunny with her, "Madame?" Herriman replied, nervousness rife in his former-stoic voice, "How are you Herriman?" Madame Foster asked him, in a brusque tone she very rarely used, except when unhappy. "I'm fine Madame…what ab-"

"Have you had a good day?" She asked snappily, cutting off his conversational nicety,

"Erm…can't complain Madame," He responded unsurely, his Madame surveyed him for a moment, before interrogating the nervy bunny further, "What about Frankie, did she have a good day?"

"Well…I erm…she…well I," The rabbit stammered, unable to form any defined words.

"I only ask, because I was just walking through the foyer, and the phone was ringing," She began pacing up and down as she told her tale to Herriman, his suffering was rising in intensity, he knew the Madame was going somewhere, she either knew about the 'special ingredient' in his carrot juice or… "It was a girl called Louise," _oh no._ "She was just calling to thank you for inviting Cheese over for the afternoon," Herriman was struck dumb, he just sort of twitched fretfully under the unyielding glance of his creator, "Well, erm…that's nice," immediately Madame Fosters swung her cane and rapped the rabbit on his knuckles, he yelped painfully, however he stopped his pain-dance when his creator aimed her walking stick straight at his fleecy grey chest, "Explain!" She cried lividly,

"Madame please calm down!" Herriman desperately appealed to the Madame, but she was having none of it. "I said explain yourself Herriman, it is not like you to cheat so I assume that I am mistaken when I think you invited Cheese over here today to purposely sabotage my granddaughter, I am aren't I?" Madame Foster demanded angrily at her imaginary friend, knowing full well that she wasn't mistaken; Herriman on the other hand couldn't bring himself to reply. The Madame didn't say anything further, she simply tutted, shook her head and began hobbling out of the room, "M-Madame?" Herriman enquired tentatively, shocked at her sudden backing-down, she turned to look at him, all anger had faded from her eyes, and in its place was a bitter disappointment, worse than any rage that could ensnare her feeble form, "This penchant for being right is just childish Herriman, and to backstab and cheat one of your own family, this is something I'd expect from someone like Jerkins or Rivers across the road." She turned to leave again before saying one last thing, "And I know what's in that stuff you're drinking, is that really the answer to your problems?"

She regarded Herriman with an almost pitiful sense of disenchantment, and then walked out of the room, leaving Herriman alone with his thoughts, and the sounds of his creator's cane on the foyer floor. He looked at the crystal glass full of alcoholic carrot juice and he regarded himself with contempt, drowning his troubles in alcohol like some wino. As he turned to put the concoction back in the fridge he encountered an old Polaroid on its door, frozen in plastic complete with a magnet on the back, it depicted the Madame, Francis, Master Wilt and himself, standing outside Foster's in its earlier days.

The Madame and Master Wilt were grinning Wilt was in the background more than the photo's other occupants but his grin was as wide as ever, Francis was doing the same, this was long enough after the tragic death of her parents that she could once again smile. The redhead was hugging Herriman's furry stomach, and laughing, and in response Herriman had a stern look plastered on his face, but Herriman knew that rabbit in the photograph, he knew him well, and he knew that the stern look he was wearing was entirely to keep up appearances, he, unlike most could detect the ghost of warmth on the bunny's face. His mouth may have been frowning but his eyes were doing quite the opposite they had a sparkle, betraying the austere and unimpressed persona he was trying so hard to keep up. Herriman suddenly realised how deplorable his betrayal of that little girl on the photo was today, and it would be so easy to let sleeping dogs lie, but that was the coward's way out, and gentlemen aren't cowards.

Frankie clipped the hedge in front of her, the garden was getting dark, it reflected her mood. She was obsessed by the raw injustice of it; Cheese had arrived today, why today? Because it couldn't be any day, it was so unlikely that it more or less had to happen; well that's how she was consoling herself. Radiohead's _Exit Music for a Film_ played through her headphones, she chuckled bitterly in irony as she heard the lyric 'today, we escape' play a couple of times, Frankie didn't even hear the steady crunching of grass under the feet of her boss as he hopped towards her. He laid her hand on the redhead's shoulder, only to earn a shriek of fright and a near-heart attack as Frankie wheeled around with her shears, poised to strike. However upon seeing the terrified rabbit she lowered her weapon and unplugged her headphones, "Sorry Mr H, it's just been a hell of a day," Frankie apologised, lacking any significant enthusiasm to hint she would have cared if she would had punched him, and Herriman couldn't blame her. "Miss Frances, I… erm I…" this was new to the rabbit; he was so often in the right that he didn't need to ever apologise for something.

"I… I'm…I'm sorry," he finally sighed, however the caretaker looked quizzical rather than triumphant, it was clear she hadn't worked it out yet, "What for?" Herriman once again sharply exhaled, this was harder than he thought, "Why do you think I put those three extra items on your shopping list earlier this day Miss Frances?" Herriman watched as the wheels whirled in her head, and he could visibly make out when the she put two and two together. The wind whipped her hair, and her face started to catch up on redness with her deep rouge hair, her teeth worked together to grind as her fury deepened, she pointed an accusing finger at the rabbit, shaking with rage, "You…you invited him?" She questioned, her vehemence amassing when he nodded his head, "You couldn't just let me win one? You had to ruin it for me didn't you, I'm twenty years old Herriman, what do other people my age do, drink mindlessly, fuck each other and party, and what about me? I already feel like I'm forty, all I do is housework, and you just delight in ruining any chance at my life becoming easier, don't you?" Frankie bawled, years of frustration leaking out, she felt no regret in verbally assaulting the old rabbit, however rather than chastise her for swearing, he just looked at her, desperately trying to formulate a sentence that could make this better, "DON'T YOU?" Frankie roared, and shoved him, she watched as he fell back onto the grass.

However in that moment, as he looked up at her with frightened eyes, she saw not the cotton-tailed antagonist she had just seconds earlier, but rather an old creature, grey and weathered, she sat down on the grass and felt herself beginning to weep. Herriman stood up and brushed some stray blades of grass of his jacket, "I know you have every right to hate me Miss Frances but-"

"Hate you? Are you still on that?" She yelled at him through her bitter tears of injustice. "I don't hate you Mr H, yeah sometimes I say it, and sometimes even I think I do, but no, I don't hate you." Herriman stopped speaking, and for the first time in recent memory, really listened to Frankie, really took in her pained verbal tirade, "All I've ever wanted is for you to respect me, for you to stop saying I'm immature and lazy, to just realise I'm human and that I can't do everything perfectly first time. Don't you know why I made a bet with you?" The figment shook his head, still feeling that nothing he could vocalise could possibly make anything better, "It's because even though I've known you all my life, I still feel like I can't talk to you, I had to make some stupid bet, and it's clear that by calling Cheese and Louise today, that you didn't want my life to be easier. I don't hate you Mr H, I think a better question is, do you hate me?"

Frankie looked at Herriman through tear drenched eyes, and all he could do is stare back, "That's what I thought," Frankie sobbed bitterly, before retrieving her shears from the grass and resumed clipping the hedge, she took extra care not to take one of her fingers off in the reduced visibility of looking through her teardrops. "It's not about you Miss…Frankie," Herriman said from behind her, "My weakness, my hubris is that I have to be right, that's what I was made for, the Madame has always been a wild card, I needed to reign her in, and it's spilled over to everyone else," Frankie stopped her job and listen in turn to what Herriman now had to say, "If I'm not the character, telling the gutsy protagonist where they went wrong and showing them the error of their ways, then I am nothing but an over-sized lepus plush-toy, with the ability to talk in an elaborate way." Frankie turned around to face him, wiping her eyes on her sleeve and harshly sniffing to try and banish any signs of her sorrow, unfortunately a fresh wave of tears betrayed her.

"You said you can't talk to me Frankie, well talk to me now," He reassured, placing a warm furry hand on her shoulder, "I…I…" Frankie stammered, unsure of whether this was sincere, however a nod from the rabbit before her banished such feelings, "I can't keep this up, I just can't, it's too much," She confessed while hoarsely sobbing,

"It goes without saying, that your weekend nights off are restored, how about this, once a week I will make sure you can have one full day off, one day of your choice, and I promise that I will go easier on you from now on, I am truly sorry about what I did today Miss Frances it was petulant and downright unforgivable, but if you can try to absolve me, you'll make an old hare very happy," He articulated softly to the forlorn young woman in front of him, who didn't know how to react, "I don't want you to ever think you can't speak to me again Miss Frances, I know I am hard to deal with, but you are my Madame's family, and therefore you are mine, don't forget that," Herriman's affection-filled monologue was out-of-character to say the least, and Frankie didn't know how to react. "Now Miss Frances, you go back inside and I'll deal with this pesky pruning," Frankie giggled slightly as Herriman seized the shears and tried to get his head round them unsuccessfully, "Do you even know how to," Frankie asked,

"Oh I'll manage, but there's a warm house beckoning you Miss Frances," He gave her one last smile, before trying to clip the hedge. Frankie walked up to the house and took one last look as Herriman fought losing battle with the hedge, she smiled, and for the first time she could remember, Frankie really believed things were going to get better.


End file.
